That contradicts the war you wage
That ridicules your broadcast rage.
That funds your celebrated foe.
Each poppy marks an Afghan dead,
An Afghan maimed, an Afghan bled.
Where now your pledge of lasting calm?
Where now your soothing western balm?
Where now the warlords once thought fled
The Taliban you once expelled
Have now returned; their ranks have swelled,
And now endorse the poppy fields,
And profit from its record yields.
What of this trade you boasted quelled
The poem above I penned earlier today. It is purely pastiche, and recalls the famous poem by John McCrae, entitled In Flanders Fields, written in May 1915 and which I re-read this morning, and which will be read no doubt at many war memorials and cenotaphs across the country tomorrow - Remembrance Day. It just seems ironic that 89 years after the “war to end all wars” was concluded humanity has learned nothing. Remembrance Day! The idea of remembering something is that you bloodywell learn from it. Yes, you remember the countless millions of workers who were conned into giving up their lives in wars they fought in the interests of their damned exploiters, but if that’s all it is meant to signify the event is a sham.