War Poem by Amias Davies

The world is cursed,
Everyone wishes for the worst,
For war we have a thirst,
And we can’t wait to burst,
Everyone wishing that they’re first,
It’s as if the world will never be nursed,
And this isn’t rehearsed,
It just immersed,
One word and we’re all dispersed,
It should be reversed,
The reasons are all submersed,
It’s like we’re all coerced,
And they say they’re versed.

One action leads to another,
One death leads the brother,
And all puppets by the cry of the mother,
Those shouts make us smother,
Which leads us souther.

One’s pain will never be forgiving,
But it’s for us, the living,
We’re the ones who should be giving,
For there is a cost of living,
We should be reliving,
And stop the misgiving,
And make it all thanksgiving.