The guns fall silent and the dead
lie quietly they’ve played their part.
The night hour’s pass heavy with dread
at first light the big guns will start.
The sound of the artillery
will fill the silent skies again.
Eroding further bravery
of the war weary fighting men.
The brave young men on either side
are doomed to die face down in mud.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
Their dug outs do but little good.
A shell burst may not kill just maim
The lucky ones are those who die,
they are the winners in this game
when thick and fast the bullets fly.
Opposing sides move to and fro
to capture trenches they’ve just left.
For no good reason that they know
obeying orders quite bereft
of any sign of sanity.
The generals are safe behind the lines
Unlike the vast majority
who fight to fulfil their designs.
Lions by donkeys badly led
Young men by the thousand died.
A foreign field their final bed
because good sense was not applied.
In Flanders fields the poppies grow.
The soil enriched by their hearts blood
What have we learnt we did not know?
Nobody won Nobody could.
There are no winners none at all
except perhaps the carrion crows
They dine well when the soldiers fall
as mighty nations come to blows.
Survivors return home broken men
with small support and little praise.
Until they’re needed once again
when countries their new armies raise.
Another war to end all wars.
We do not learn from history
For men can always find a cause.
Why this should be a mystery.
18-Feb-08
ivor or ivor.e hogg
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/generally-speaking/
