Values (Poetry)
15th July 2012
His life was given in the course of duty —
killed on an ordinary working day
involved in another country’s war —
how could that be termed a waste?
The career he chose he knew had risks
and he accepted any order might
put him in danger — send him off
into battle — bid him take up arms and fight.
He kept that bargain to the very end —
played out his given part —
took his chances — did the best he could
with all that training still fresh inside his head
obeyed instructions — every word they said.
He was a free man doing what he thought was right —
to serve his country — be its loyal son
and rules are rules set down in blood and stone.
He fell in action — dropped where no one saw
the moment of his passing sudden — with no time
for thoughts that questioned — blamed some power high
or cursed the faceless bringer-on of death.
His life forfeit along with all those millions gone before
the world continues to tot up — the brave — heroic — and
the plain unlucky ones
the value of their sacrifice unmeasurable
however wars historically are rated — justified or judged unwise.
When the focus moves, the point — like life — seems lost
in retrospect the overview can change — distort perception
but put in context — fixed to time and place —
the cost in lives makes every nation poorer.
He — and others like him — paid that price — and none alive
with empathy for how the human spirit strives
for something to believe in
should ever call it waste.
killed on an ordinary working day
involved in another country’s war —
how could that be termed a waste?
The career he chose he knew had risks
and he accepted any order might
put him in danger — send him off
into battle — bid him take up arms and fight.
He kept that bargain to the very end —
played out his given part —
took his chances — did the best he could
with all that training still fresh inside his head
obeyed instructions — every word they said.
He was a free man doing what he thought was right —
to serve his country — be its loyal son
and rules are rules set down in blood and stone.
He fell in action — dropped where no one saw
the moment of his passing sudden — with no time
for thoughts that questioned — blamed some power high
or cursed the faceless bringer-on of death.
His life forfeit along with all those millions gone before
the world continues to tot up — the brave — heroic — and
the plain unlucky ones
the value of their sacrifice unmeasurable
however wars historically are rated — justified or judged unwise.
When the focus moves, the point — like life — seems lost
in retrospect the overview can change — distort perception
but put in context — fixed to time and place —
the cost in lives makes every nation poorer.
He — and others like him — paid that price — and none alive
with empathy for how the human spirit strives
for something to believe in
should ever call it waste.