Wandering around the battlefield picking up the wounded,
stray bullets pass overhead, the last post has not sounded.
What price peace in the midst of war,
what are blood soaked bandages for?
Has peace a chance against bullets, bombs and knives?
When we die who cares for our lives?
Someone must bring up a child, somebody must care.
Otherwise in the end there will be no one there.
10th April, 2016