He was dying;he knew that.
Nineteen.
Dying.
All the lying of the politicians,
And the indecisions of the clowns in charge,
Had led him here
To this backyard of Hades.
Afghanistan.
Dying.
He was sprawled on his back in the dirt
Like a broken-backed dog;
Looking up at the violent,purple,alien sky
The gateway to a Paradise ,which wasn't his.
There would be no shreiking gaggle of virgins waiting with open legs
To welcome him in. Shrouded in black,their fearsome faces hidden.

His mates lay dead around him.
Billy and Jock and Eggo from Newcastle:
Blown to fuck by an invisible bomb
Planted by an invisible enemy ,paid for by visible poppies
And shadowy collections in sinister gymnnasiums,
Funded by benefits .

Why,oh why did it come to this?
Why was the bliss of youth,
Hardly begun: finished?
Why? Why?
For Queen and country?
What Queen? What country?

Bollocks. All bollocks.

All the promises of homes for heroes,everlasting Peace
And milk and honey.
He was dying. Dying. For the same cause all other patriots had and did:
For big fat pigs and filthy,stinking international money

Yet he would be rewarded by the manipulative thieves
Who would stand ,heads bowed amongst the autumn leaves'
Each passing year. Without a tear. Singing 'Oh God Our Help in Ages Past'
Whilst thinking of stockmarkets,fast cars and bigger houses
And other profitable wars.

At the end of it all. Upon the wall, they would etch
His name. It would last two hundred years,
Maybe less,or maybe more,
Along with the names of other ,sad,glorious fools of yore
Whose blood enriched the earth.

Enriching too many a grasping whore who would become even richer
Along with the prancing,grasping pimps who opened the door
Of super investment , with the innocent blood of normal people.

Johnnie,that was his name, Johnnie's last thought was of some billionaire someoneorother paying fifty mill to end his short unhappy marriage to a hooker .

Johnnie wondered how much his own sweet wife of six months would get? Plenty of hassle.

Then closed his eyes in stone. Eternally alone.

Thank you, Ronnie. I'm not going to attempt to use any adjectives to describe the poem and its effect, because it moved me beyond words.

Me too.....

How sad and moving. You can almost see that boy under that 'alien sky' 'eyes closed in stone'. What are we doing to the young people of this unhappy world.
As the old song went 'When will we ever learn?'

Fantastic poem

Originally Posted by ronniex He was dying;he knew that. Nineteen. Dying. All the lying of the politicians, And the indecisions of the clowns in charge, Had led him here To this backyard of Hades. Afghanistan. Dying. He was sprawled on his back in the dirt Like a broken-backed dog; Looking up at the violent,purple,alien sky The gateway to a Paradise ,which wasn't his. There would be no shreiking gaggle of virgins waiting with open legs To welcome him in. Shrouded in black,their fearsome faces hidden. His mates lay dead around him. Billy and Jock and Eggo from Newcastle: Blown to fuck by an invisible bomb Planted by an invisible enemy ,paid for by visible poppies And shadowy collections in sinister gymnnasiums, Funded by benefits . Why,oh why did it come to this? Why was the bliss of youth, Hardly begun: finished? Why? Why? For Queen and country? What Queen? What country? Bollocks. All bollocks. All the promises of homes for heroes,everlasting Peace And milk and honey. He was dying. Dying. For the same cause all other patriots had and did: For big fat pigs and filthy,stinking international money Yet he would be rewarded by the manipulative thieves Who would stand ,heads bowed amongst the autumn leaves' Each passing year. Without a tear. Singing 'Oh God Our Help in Ages Past' Whilst thinking of stockmarkets,fast cars and bigger houses And other profitable wars. At the end of it all. Upon the wall, they would etch His name. It would last two hundred years, Maybe less,or maybe more, Along with the names of other ,sad,glorious fools of yore Whose blood enriched the earth. Enriching too many a grasping whore who would become even richer Along with the prancing,grasping pimps who opened the door Of super investment , with the innocent blood of normal people. Johnnie,that was his name, Johnnie's last thought was of some billionaire someoneorother paying fifty mill to end his short unhappy marriage to a hooker . Johnnie wondered how much his own sweet wife of six months would get? Plenty of hassle. Then closed his eyes in stone. Eternally alone.

My God, Ronniex, you certainly know how to hit between the eyes. Brilliant, moving, thought provoking !

Wonderful, Ronniex. I could not stop the tears in my eyes.

A reason why servicemen who served in the shiteholes of Islam hate Muslims so much!

Ronnie wrote..'Shrouded in black their fearsome faces hidden'

Shitbints planting their starving crying kids in a booby trapped buggy ready for martyrdom knowing full well that the kind hearted 'Askaris' would go to and see why the tears... those kind hearted mates of mine are lying under white crosses..I was lucky I was only covered with their bits!

Beware!!!

Quality, Mr. X. xxx

if he knew all this why did he not become a proper socialist and not go to war?