Monday's Poetry: "Marching Men"

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist


Today's poetry selection, Marching Men by Martin Harris, was chosen to serve as a post script to yesterday's Ramble on the subject of war.  It was composed as a response to the sight of the coffins of British servicemen returning home from Afghanistan.  As with any war, poems are penned to commemorate courage and valor, and they are also written to lay bare the futility and horror of war.  The following selection is of the latter variety.


Marching Men
by Martin Harris


Think of wars in the past and then of wars that we have left
For when your country calls for you to murder, maim and persecute
In a war where nothing is gained, where the slaughter of people is inhumane
When your country sends its war machine of marching men and bullets clean
Rivers flow the colours red, drained from men that have been bled
And they tell you that God is on your side. That when you kill its justified.


But the spoils of war turn bad, when you send friends home in body bags
With anger strong and bitterness high, you struggle to fight the emotions inside
You’re told to be tough, you’re told to be mean, that you’re not a man, you’re a killing machine
But hidden away deep down inside, you are a man and you cannot hide
For your children scream and your children cry, for they don’t understand the reason why
Why at war its right to take a life but in peace time, it’s our worst crime
So your country knows what‘s good for you, now take your orders and carry them through
And finish it quick the job you do, to kill another man
For there will never be peace on earth my friend
So listen to the feet of the marching men

10 November 09