Hiding in a Trojan Horse,
With eyes as sharp as hawks,
Bullets flying all around
What is it all for?
Laying deep so motionless
Covered with blood, faceless faces,
Pictures of loved ones held in cases
Left to die companionless.
Marching onwards all asleep,
Bloody faces, limbs cut so deep,
Gasping griping hold on tight,
I don’t want to leave tonight.
What is all this bloodshed for?
Why are we fighting such a war?
Christine Gibbons (Osmondthorpe Creative Writing Group)