War

 War is ugly

War is ugly, war is horrible 

And hideous and unnecessary

But counterintuitively often shows

The best in the least of us. 

Postmen become the poster boys

And sling a gun faster than a lawyer 

Old bakers keep guard at night

While directors cower in wine cellars.  

War tests mettle and the character 

That lay disguised for many years

And would have lain unclaimed 

But for this savage happenstance. 

Overnight young boys become old men 

And replace their wounded fathers 

Defending barricades against a foe

That’s using might but lacking right. 

Lifted out of the ordinary

Shaken from their complacency 

Men and women give a glimpse

Of the hero in the ordinary. 

But there is no glamour in the blood

Shed by friend or foe, by civilians,

By orphans in a railway station 

Holding teddies as they wait

For a train to bring them somewhere else

They do not know or recognize 

Far from their friends and family

From the country of their birth. 

War is mad, so totally insane

War is destruction and sad ruin

War is never sponsored by the men

Who spent some time in trenches.