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Jun 2014
War
For whom do we all rise each day
with what do we gain happiness
For ourselves the masses say
though this is folly with sadness

The marching soldiers who had gone
our children who pranced to war
Had carried our hopes and love on
would die to please us never-more

No more the laughter to our ears
left forever the taste of dirt
As ground belayed the sound of cheers
and feelings of others pride hurt

In a moment the lonely sound
fell heavy on every mans ear
As the truth echoed from the ground
even the boldest shook to hear

For then the songs all ceased to play
we looked to sky and then to friend
They felt there nothing left to say
for woe had summoned this the end

Tate
Original Musical version
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/565963/
Will we never stop beating the drums of war ? Only to pave the streets of conquest with the souls of children. I wrote this after attending the funeral of a friends dear child. You know goodness has a sound to it. It is the laughter of children Who play unafraid in the streets of a town. Lacking that we have failed to secure anything. Goodness is not what we won't do. Nor some question of whom we exclude. It is the unselfish act of humanity. That sees ourselves in those we include.
Tate Morgan
Written by
Tate Morgan
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