Poem of the Month

Paul A N Battye on the futility of war.


I will only remember them

I will not remember the men with pips
Who so easily, through their lips,
Send boys and girls to die,
As if they were no more than confetti.

I will not remember, from these shores,
Those who cry out for war,
From the safety of their newstand
And dispatch box, at which they stand.

I will not remember, the parents, proud,
Who send their children where the darkening clouds
Of war gather over petty squabbles,
And boys and girls are sacrificed for futile troubles.

I will not remember the pen pushing penny pinchers,
Proud to save another pound by cutting inches
Off the safety net for the traumatised kids who return from war with PTSD
But get little help, support, no home and no safety.

I will not remember the old folk with rose tinted eyes,
Who read their news from rags soaked with lies,
They look back fondly at memories of wars they never had,
Then jump on bandwagons and call for blood.

No, today I will remember those sacrificed, but not with pride.
The futility of it all means I can not hide
The sorrow that I feel inside
As I know too many lives have unnecessarily died.

Though remembering lives wasted in history past
Should we not learn to make each war the last?
But no, there is not enough profit in living women and men
So we have to help the bottom line and do it all again.

Paul A N Battye, 11 November, 2021

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