In the Year I was Born

In the year I was born, the war was fresh
Fresh as a fifteen year old, and just as forgetful
Sometimes I see how civilized we have become
Iraq and Gaza are an other’s violence, not understood
I cannot imagine my brother or children, or me
Warring, filled with anger and terror
But, in the year I was born Europe was fresh with guilt
Stalingrad ruined, with the bodies piled upon piles
Not to mention Belsen or French collaborators
Or American marines, carpet bombing and all the rest
Yes, we can hate just as much as any others
They are no less civilized than we
And we no more distant from hell

Journal Comments

  • Danny
  • Melody
  • Suzanne German
  • Melinda Kerr
  • Pilgrim
  • Cathie Tranent