A soldier wakes from dreams of pain
Another day to fight again,
His gun is charged with anger now
He's ceased to wonder why or how,
There are no reasons understood
When heritage is bought with blood!
When war itself has gone berserk,
And who's to win the future's bread,
When all the flower of youth lies dead,
How will we stem this murder flow
Ask any mother she will know.
By May Figgins.
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