Though Some Have Seen
In memory of my beloved Mother who died during a civil war.
Though some have seen
these bloody fields and heard the grunts of dying men
they soon exchange their nice blue jeans
for faded wears, dying like Guinea hen
Though some have seen
where comrades fell when shattered by the blast
some barely ever turned eighteen
when back they come all plaster cast
They dive from planes
and fall where boas and gators dwell
but having trod these rough terrains
mere tales are what they tell
It’s true some fight
With might and main for power or wealth to gain
Yet one and all, in retrospect
Their fight is mostly just in vain
Though some have seen
and daily hear of sad and frightful things
their war impulses unrestrained
they do the same old things.
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