Colin F. Jones
So vain are men regretting deeds they’ve done,
Whose pity for themselves needs no support,
Who fail to see whatever is lost and won,
Lingers on in future times report.
Why do they spoil their children with their moans;
That youthful eyes do lack what they reject,
Grow with their fathers defects in their bones,
That causes them to lose their self respect.
So many veterans see their sons destroyed,
Because they dwell upon their own defining pain,
Instead of giving hope to those young boys,
They give them woe which leads them all to shame.
Sometimes I think such selfishness so vain,
Though subconscious is all for personal gain.
Of thousands who were affected by a war,
‘Tis but a few who keep the thoughts alive,
As though they cannot live if they ignore,
What most good veterans eventually put aside
What is this dungeon it seems must be maintained,
With dreary guards to keep the sun at bay,
And pools of tears from crimson blood so stained,
That every word seeks pity that they say.
There must be some spark there to offer hope,
To those who waited long for their return,
How do these veterans think their women cope,
When they are with their own pains so concerned?
I think it’s nearly time to give love back,
To those who have the courage some veterans lack.
Look how he stands so arrogant and so bold,
Claiming he is better than the working man,
Who toils each day doing as he is told,
And paying taxes to old Uncle Sam,
That gave that soldier all the clothes he wore,
Provided food and leather for his boots,
In factories struggled, he was pretty poor,
Making guns and fancy flying suits.
“So you are special; but don’t look down on me,
Because you ain’t nothin’ if I choose to shirk,
Then you’d get nothin’ not even a dime you see,
Because my friend you are reliant on my work.
Ok, you’re back; you can throw your weight around,
But soon enough you’ll land back on the ground.”
©Copyright January 13, 2003 by Colin F. Jones