The Misery of War

Misery of War As medics trudge Across broken fields Stepping over the dead To help the living Thoughts of lives lost And the talent spoiled Trudges naught across Their pensive thoughts Thoughts of dead men And the soldiers lost Aren't the torturous cages Wrought around their thoughts No, as they trudge Forever onward The thoughts that consume Are those the dead left behind That little girl Waiting on her doorstep Watching the passerby Prayers left unanswered The woman sitting at her table Staring at the letter Remembering promises Left unfulfilled The grandfather, rocking Eyes cold and distant To all who visit Wishing it had been him No, as the medics trudge Their thoughts are not consumed By those they step over But by those the dead left behind