A poem about the futility of war as we get manouvered into the horror once again in Iran.
CATCHING SHADOWS IN THE WIND.
WE'RE CLIMBING UP THE SKY
SEE THE BEAUTY IN ALL THINGS
AS PEOPLE TRY TO FLY
BUSY MINGLING, AS WE DO,
THE SHYEST OF THE SHY
IN THOSE SUMPTIOUS ROOMS WITH
THE HIGHEST OF THE HIGH.
THE IMPOSSIBILITY
WE REALISE, BY AND BY,
OF THEIR WEAPONS BRINGING PEACE,
WHILST POLITICIANS CRY.
ONCE AGAIN IT ALL BEGINS,
ONTO BOULEVARDS WE HIE,
WITH PLACARDS AND BALLOONS
HUMANLY WE MUST ALL TRY,
TO CATCH SHADOWS IN THE WIND.
PERHAPS THIS TIME WE WILL WIN.
WE WON'T IF WE DON'T TRY.
HARRY ROGERS
16/06/19
PENCNWCAU.
