In nineteen hundred forty four,
the nation knew we were at war,
for every family sent their boys,
depriving them of normal joys,
and prayed they would not die.
Though Vietnam was more compact,
the nightly news made clear the fact
that we had gone again to war.
Aghast, we watched the death count soar
and asked, “Why must they die?”
Afghanistan, Iraq, and more:
We still send soldiers off to war,
but TV oft ignores that news,
to focus on opposing views,
and few now know they die.
Our daily life looks just like peace.
We might believe that war can cease,
though that, for sure, is fantasy.
Yet, I would really like to see
the news say, "No More Die!"
Copyright ©2018, Paul H. Harder II
This
poem is licensed under a Creative Commons
BY-NC-ND 4.0 License
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