I saw the bullets flying 'round a terrified young man
I heard his last breath sighing as the gun fell from his hand
I felt a mother crying for a son in a distant land
and I watched her child dying face down in foreign sand
Your troops are somebody's babies
your troops have babies of their own
Your troops are somebody's lovers
dying so far from home
I saw a country burning in a war no one would claim
I heard our troops returning for round two of the game
I felt a mother yearning, searching for her son's name
and I watched the world keep turning, as if all was still the same
Your troops are somebody's babies
your troops have babies of their own
Your troops are somebody's lovers
dying so far from home
I saw a tyrant leading our children off to die
I heard a country pleading to know the reason why
I felt a mother needing to understand, to justify
and I watched our brave boys bleeding for a politician's lie
Your troops are somebody's babies
your troops have babies of their own
Your troops are somebody's lovers
dying so far from home
Author notes
Written October 29th, 2006
What did you think
Comments
1 - 10 of 10
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As true now as the day you penned your work, powerful and germane stuff but you are preaching to the converted - the masters in the corridors of power will never read or listen. Very well done. And we must keep writing - you never know.
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It's so easy to just say the troops are fighting for their country and dying with dignity, we really look at the fact that yes, these men have lives of their own and people who are crying and praying and hoping for them to come home and be safe. It seems that not many people look at it this way.
I agree completely with you,
we are monsters. Bring them home.
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The message is taken.
The message is well taken and yet a war goes on our streets everyday just the same as in a foreign country. When will men learn that violence is not the answer whether is a war in foreign lands, gang wars, drug war or family disputes. -
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good point
Our own gangs and those iraqi soldiers you see on the news (some of them only children) have something in common. They've grown up surrounded by violence and poverty, it's all they know. Their lives are so awful that they must blame somebody, HATE somebody, whether that somebody be a foreign country (us) or a rival gang. When you have so little to live for, it's often easier to find something to die for. When you are essentially powerless, having the power to decide whether somebody lives or dies can be hard to resist. The real travesty is when those who have power, REAL power, descend to that same level. They have no excuse.
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Bravo, amen, and thank you. Words like this need to be put to paper. I agree completely with your message, and commend you for writing this truthful piece of work.
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Ah much better. Seems almost finished. I'm not sure I would add anything more to it. Has a perfect starting verse and a great ending verse. And the "chorus" (whatever you wanna call it) is perfect, I like the way you itallicised "troops" makes it hit a little harder as you read it. Starting to make my political / anti-war poems seem amature lol.
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Almost forgot...
I got a free one-week silver membership for being the third best commenter, from all those poems of yours, lol. Good thing, because I think 'troops' really does need to be italicized in this poem. Needs the inflection, kind of sarcastic, like "your TROOPS..." -
Thank Mitch
I've been stuck on this particular poem for over a year. Recently, Mitch and I have been discussing the war in Iraq a lot. He's one of those ~ against it but don't think we can leave, now that we've messed up the country so damn much. I, of course, just want to get the hell out of there. All our arguing gave me the rest of this poem, lol. The chorus is almost exactly what I told him, that the "troops" are all somebody's babies; and every one that dies leaves a broken-hearted mother, wife, child etc...
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you need to finish this
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Hey, I added more to this poem (it's the war one). See what you think, still unfinished but getting there
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