They fought in the trenches,
Surrounding Vimy Ridge.
They fell in the fields,
Lacking one last kiss.
They sunk on open waters,
Praying to their God.
They where shot dead in Saigon,
Fighting for a fraud.
They where blown to bits and pieces,
Found later in the Ardennes.
They fell to Fascist rifles,
In the name of Spain and all her friends.
They died for old MacArthur,
His ego could care less.
They died for all the Germans,
In Hitler's game of chess.
They died for King and Country,
In the name of their great Queen.
They died in ancient Baghdad,
Victim to an enemy unseen.
They fell from 60 stories,
On that dark and tragic day.
They sat in rehab centers,
With nothing left to say.
They sat at home with family,
No longer able to walk,
Hoping for that final day,
When the guns would drop,
Bullets would stop,
And all we would do,
Is just sit down,
And talk.
Very poignant, goes under my skin.
ReplyDeleteNow ,true, we sit around and talk.
However, what are we saying? Are we talking about hope and end of conflict by forgiving each other? Or are we pointing the finger at our brothers and sisters trying to assign blame?
I 'd say to talk is the way to go, if it is to communicate who we really are: Extensions of Eternal Love. With condemnation on our mind we will not be able to see the beauty of this truth.....Cheers, Jurgen. tckayak@cedar-strip.com