Kitchener’s Finger
Lord Kitchener is flexing his finger,
A beckoning to come hither once more,
Inducing young men and women to war.
In the cenotaph memory lingers,
Although it appears amnesia prevails
When a call to the colours comes their way
And they sleep-march towards their beds of clay;
Too often, it seems, humanity fails.
Enough now of the lame old excuses
For yet another bellicose mission,
When it’s rivalry and competition,
And the prospects of profit seduces.
A radical change is required because
The price of peace is capitalism’s loss.
D. A.