Don't push too hard about yesterday;
some memories are hard to hold.
Vivid pictures, best forgotten, live on still.
They slice to the marrow; shatter the soul.
Young ones with courage, futures to make,
just children with so much to gain,
grow old very quickly when the rockets burst,
when they taste the cup of bitter pain.
Maybe the old ought to fight all the wars.
Save the young to build and create.
But then old men were once young men, too.
Do you think we waited much too late
to live together with justice, in peace?
How many white crosses must line the hills?
How many names etched on a wall?
How many tombs and graves until
we finally arrive on common ground,
the place where hope can thrive?
And we, imperfect though we be,
strive hand in hand to keep peace alive.
Do you think that day will ever come?
Opportunities come and go.
Is there goodwill enough in the human heart?
Unless we try, how will we know?
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Author:
DesertWords (
Offline) - Published: November 11th, 2024 08:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 19
Offline)
Comments2
Not a good day to be posting a reasoned piece on peace and war when a quick slogan or two will do.
Neat - asking the right questions. Thanks.
We have to hope there is enough goodwill, or we are serious trouble. Nicely written and enjoyable poem, thank you
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