Aftermath Poem by David Esdaile

I feel a little safer now the empire's in control.
The king is in his counting house, the army's in the mall,
protecting us from enemies who'd rob us of our ease,
of life and freedom, liberty to spend life as we please.

I feel a little wiser now the Enemy's made known.
An evil axis threatens us, they must be overthrown
so we can still enjoy the life our fathers laboured for
of productivity and affluence and growth forevermore.

I feel a little sadder now. The cost of peace is more
than anyone could speculate to even up the score.
Three thousand people died that day when planes were used, one hour
to strike the heart of Babylon, the seat of wealth and power.

Four thousand US soldiers now* have died to take the war
to someone else's neighbourhood and there is even more:
two hundred thousand Iraqis are dead, and many more
will certainly be sacrificed to feed the gods of war.

*See story below.