deepundergroundpoetry.com
Our Glorious Dead (They said)
To Our Glorious Dead, the monument said
Bollox!
What’s so glorious about being dead?
A bayonet up the arse or a bullet in the head
Would you change places then?
If so, when?
Political prick you make me sick
Forward you men have no fear
Whilst I stay safely over here
Far, far away from the pointless war
I lied and deceived for.
Oh great, can’t wait!
Don’t count the wounded or dead,
Our cause is just
Forward, soldiers, in God we trust
It’s the way to win, just forge ahead
Aftermath:
And the injuries? The amputees?
What of these?
‘Oh dear, well, it’s like this you see
We can’t afford so very much
And so we’ll kick you in the crotch
With weasel words, broken promises and such
But the nation is very grateful
And, yes, we agree, war is hateful
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