About, the young ones will
Fight because it's the mad
World's way, the gut thrill
Of the hunt, especially for
Other men, the chase, the kill,
Organized into a thing called war...
Our children fight for their
Cause, like their fathers before,
And for the winners, the fanfare,
They are lifted, like heroes of yore...
For those who lose, there's nothing
But to lie and cower in the gore...
Then there's the others, who,
Are quietly returned from the fight,
But their parts no longer work together
Like in days before, or fit quite right,
These others must find a way
To somehow make it through,
Each and every remaining day...
|(Photo by Geoffrey Hamilton, 1955-2011)|