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Poetry Pleases: War

"All our services are bombed out to hell and everyone says that it's for our own good...''' Mike Eastwood's powerful poem will make you think deeply about tragic events that are still unfolding in a certain country.

From the other side of the world they come to our land.
We can see their planes in the hot blue sky.
Thousands of boots tread the coarse desert sand,
And many of us will suffer and die.

Brigade and division and company, all of them come
Marching on together in serried ranks.
Then come the missiles, the rockets and bombs,
And our streets are being destroyed by the tanks.

Our only drinking water is deep down in the well.
It is ages since we saw any fresh food.
All our services are bombed out to hell.
And everyone says that itís for our own good.

A grandmother clutches a babe to her dried-out breast
As she sits in the shade of an old tin shack.
The mother is dead and gone with the rest.
The father is fighting and canít come back.

So I ask every one of you to get right down on your knees
And pray to your god, whoever it is,
To stop this foul war and bring us some peace.
Surely our lives should be better than this.


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