© Cindy J. Smith
They come with their slogans
To entice our youth
“You must sign up and fight
For freedom and truth”
Once papers are signed
Send them off to boot camp
Where they’ll be trained
And their morals revamped
Going to free the world
Of all the evil around
“Gooks”, “Japs”, “Krauts” and “Rag-heads”
Their numbers abound
With pride and honed skills
They board planes and ships
Sure their purpose is right
No doubt passes their lips
In silence they debark
On beaches, meadows, deserts
Their hearts racing fast
Their minds at full alert
Face now their first battle
Bullets whiz, bombs explode
Keep fighting and fighting
Bodies working in “auto-mode”
Crossfire diminishes
Silence and smoke fill the air
Then cries of the wounded
Shrieks from everywhere
Dawn’s light show the truth
Of what they have all done
Village now a wasteland
Hell that can’t be undone
See homes in shatters, fires galore
Bodies torn asunder, rivers of blood
Of both friends and enemies
Strewn across the thick mud
Eyes that once sparkled
With the glimmer of pride
Now filled with the horror
Caused ignorance and pride
Witnesses now to war
See how they were misled
“Gooks”, “Japs”, “Krauts” and “Rag-heads”
Are like them and bleed red
All the wounded and dead
Were once filled with hope
Deceived by politicians
Missed the carrot on the rope
War is destruction
Only causing death and pain
To think it will bring peace
Is truly insane

Their future just starting
They are called off to war
Told that freedom and peace
Are worth dying for

In their dress uniforms
Buttons shiny and bright
Family, friends they are proud
So it must be all right

But major destruction
Is all that’s in store
When Pride and greed unite
Countries declare war

Bullets start flying
Maim all in their path
There is no escape
From their vengeful wrath

The whining of bombs
Raining down from the sky
Mix with the terror and fear
Of the survivors’ cries

Gathering up the wounded
In a town now rubble
Eye witness to carnage
Need help on the double

So many lay dead
Friends and enemies alike
No good thing can come
From this unexpected strike

Their camouflage clothes
Covered now in blood
And their nice shiny boots
Scraped and covered in mud

Horrors of war witnessed
Are burnt deep in their souls
They know that their hearts
Will never be whole

How much blood must be spilled
Precious innocence lost
Before we finally admit
Peace shouldn’t have this high cost
© Cindy J. Smith

About the poet in her own words….
I grew up in the country of Upstate New York and now reside in the boonies of Midwestern Indiana. I am a coffee-addicted truck driver (as if there was any other kind). I have written poetry all my life. The topics and poems just come into my head. I try to write in the first person for most of them. I do this as people are more apt to relate to something when they are not feeling like they are the target. Some of my poems are true, either for me or for someone I know. I believe in magic and that life is worth living. I hope that my words will touch every reader in some way. I want everyone to open their eyes and really see what is before them.

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