Old song, new seat,
up another gauge.

Open palm, right cheek,
the same rage.

Undereyes are ultravi-
briny lies or
welts of shame
gnawing from the inside.

Catch her in the alley
sparking up at night.
Mulling over what she said,
can never keep it light.

Five years, no change,
some new phase.

A new place, the same pain,
the same waste.

Silence
is wisdom
unexpressed
in its own rightful place

My mate ted
Had his head
blown of,
He’s dead.
My mate Stan
Stood on a mine
His legs flew of
Life’s so unkind.
Freddie Drew
Got blown up
in his tank,
His mum got
A letter, his burnt
Body stank.
Many innocent people
Turned into killers
Turning flesh into
Body bag fillers.
Mothers fathers sons and daughters
Succumbed to there deaths
Just all been slaughtered.
All good memories have been wiped clean
No good memories war is just obscene.