Poetry

When I was a boy and the world was young
in my boyhood with immature fancies
still long before you did come along
there were no girlfriends or enemies,

the government send me off to war
to fight enemies I did not deplore
and when you were there with another;
to fight for him, for you and even her,

although everything I was giving
there was some men that I could not save,
without a question I had to be brave
but did my best at my task to stay living

and there they died for someone else’s tranquillity,
while the horrors of war is still with and in me.