War Poem by James Tipp

Our ever shifting world of insecurity and dilemma
Our expectation of the young to fix the world
The drapped coffins show the price they pay
Lives cut off from the future they are meant to fix
The cortege passes slowly amidst the bowed heads
A town reflects the nations mood of grateful hearts
The tabloids shout aloud the numbers killed inscessantly
Forgetting those who still fight on and neeed our support
The nations knows thier purpose and approves the task.
Afganistan this backward planetary spot, breeder of hate
History's place to humiliate the powerful in wars theatre.