You bury your boys.
  We bury our boys.
  Our tears can never
  bring them back.

  What's the score in war?
  Number of men killed or
  maimed? Which is worse?
  No man returns the same.

  The girls at home waiting
  will never know him again.
  He's silent or screams at
  night in dreams of war.

  The children will cringe
  at his cruelty he hates
  but never understands.
  It's war's carrion breath.