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by
Eliot
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Poems
Jun 2015
Futile is War
The horror of a thousand lives
embroiled in war continued
lost souls
lives cruelly devalued
Futile is a fight
which never ends
a constant battle tires
even the strongest of us bend
War can only exist
in minds of those who hate
the Chiefs sitting behind their desk
who never leave their gate
The soldiers on the ground
are the long suffering warriors
obeying orders abound
dying for these crusaders
Greed and jealousy is rife
among capitalist fascist men
hellbent on invasion
no prayers are said for them
Conflict of those who lost their souls
as war continued
the horror of a thousand lives
crumbled and devalued
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