2019 03 – 1919 (poem)

1919

  • You’re forbidden to put it into words
  •     so you put it into guns.
  • When a democracy killed a million of its own
  •    it didn’t seem absurd
  • to kill another’s democracy
  •     by splitting its tongue.
  • Who attacked first in defence of that democracy
  •   becomes a mere intellectual exercise
  • when the thief is already in the house.
  •   He brought bloody footsteps from the trenches
  • and the fires he set are still to be doused.
  •   But he still thinks he’s right on all accounts
  • with a confidence that wrenches.

Wilson John Haire.  10th February, 2019.