In a sea of sorrow
There’ll be no tomorrow
For the lads who march proudly off, heads high
To a foreign land
This innocent band
Go travelling off to France – to die.
To the awful stench
Of the rat-ridden trench
And the roar of the anon overhead
With patriotic pride
They lie side by side
And watch as their comrades fall dead.
And at home they wait
For the click of the gate
And the telegraph boy at the door
With a yellow slip
And a quivering lip
And a family’s hopes are no more.
A heart-broken wife
Leads a lonely wife
And her world into tatters is torn
And children are left
And a mother’s bereft
And her friends and relations all mourn.
Will man ever learn
Will he always yearn
For supremacy – is it a need?
Will he always seek
To oppress the weak
In the name of religion or greed?
And in insanity
For all humanity
Will the ultimate threat be deployed?
Will the chiefs get so stressed
That the button is pressed
Will the world as we know it be destroyed?
Stewart, November 2016
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