Wednesday, 11 June 2014

A reflection on all our yesterdays


You the dead of two great wars,
of 14-18, of 38 to 45,
Who, perished for our liberty.
This liberty now falling at every turn,
brothers, sons and fathers;
Loved ones callously destroyed.
That we might live, live?
You must weep at this treachery.

Greed exalted by the ones in power,
great the agony still ---- of loved ones lost,
our hearts should rage at your love,
now only supporting misery.
Your soldier deaths, those were so noble,
now trodden in the mud.
As only lies, deceit and disdain, for your kith and kin
 remain, exercised by those now in power.

Blood splashed on foreign soil,
of Flanders fields, El Alamein, et al, et al, et al.
Scared, sombre, brave: You sleep whilst we now
cower under dictators, as they strip our wealth and
 toil – and still: They act as if you died to save us all.

70 years since D-Day
©Alan Johnson
Alan Says: I’m AiJ, a poet and engineer. This diametric opposition helps me develop reflections from two perspectives, but I would stop being an engineer immediately, if not for the money

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