I DON'T KNOW THEM
I don't know them
I won't fight them
I can't hate them
I won't make the shells
To tear men limb from limb
I won't make bullets
To maim them.
And even to heal
Would set the seal
On a war
That no justice will serve
They go off to the war
With a smile and a wave
With no thought that they'd all
Soon be trained to behave
Like wild animals.
They'll be given a gun
With a knife on the end
And made to try
With a horrible cry
To kill a poor man
Filled with hate they'd rake
His stomach and make
His guts spill on the floor
Just straw
No more
For now
I won't do that
I won't parade
I won't parade
Or march, wheel and stamp
In a military camp
I won't parade
I won't parade
Or in any way join in their ghastly charade
Or follow their orders
© nigel hallworth / BarbaraTremewan 2014