Wednesday, 14 April 2010

The Afghan

For those who have fallen - Those who fight - For my friends out there now.

The Afghan

I saw a fallen soldier laid upon the Afghan floor
And wondered what had killed him in this nasty pointless war

Was he slain by lack of kit to save a precious pound
How much was saved I wondered as he bled into the ground

Perhaps his life was cut short by a fool who wore a grin
Who was blinded by his arrogance and drunk on victory gin

Did he really give his life, or was it taken by a thief
Who did not care how many died nor of a nations grief

Beneath banner and flag lies the warriors tomb
The rare meat of battle still fresh from the womb.

How many more names must be carved into stone
Before this is done and we bring our troops home...

Bring them home. Now.

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