An outlet for players whose creativity extends beyond the board. Post your original works here!
The posting of song lyrics is not the purpose of this board and as such please refrain from doing so. Exceptions can be made to this rule if you are the copyrighted owner of the lyrics and the lyrics are not found offensive by the majority of the population. This board is a place to post your original works of poetry and prose and also a place for discussion of poetry and related areas.
We have received word from Fencer that other's poetry can be posted to this board. These are the two conditions: 1) When someone posts a known copyrighted poem, he must add the author's name as well 2) If the author is not known, the poem can be posted without problems
What are we fighting for,
We fellows who go to war?
fighting for Freedom's sake!
(You give me the belly-ache.)
Freedom to starve or slave!
Freedom! aye, in the grave.
Fighting for "hearth and home"
Who haven't an inch of loam?
Hearth? Why even a byre
Can only be ours for hire.
Dying for future peace?
Killing that killing cease?
To hell with such tripe, I say.
"Sufficient unto the day."
It isn't much fun being dead
Better to lie in bed
Cuddle up to the wife
Making, not taking life
To the corpse that stinks in the clay
Does it matter who wins the day?
What odds if tyrants reign?
They can't put irons on the brain
One always can eat one's grub
Smoke and drink in a pub
There's happiness in a glass
A pipe and the kiss of a lass
It's the best we get anyhow
In the life we are living now
Who's wanting a hero's fate?
To the dead cheers come too late
Flesh is softer than steel;
Wounds are weary to heal
In the maniac hell of the fray
Who is there dares to say?
"Hate will be vanquished by Love;
God's in His Heaven above."
When those who govern us lead
The lads they command to bleed;
When rulers march at the head
And statesmen fall with the dead;
When Kings leap into the fray
Fight in the old-time way
Perish beside their men
Maybe, O maybe then
War will be part of the past
Peace will triumph at last
Meantime such lads as I
Who wouldn't have harmed a fly
Have got to get out and kill
Lads whom we bear no ill;
As simple as we, no doubt
Who seek what it's all about;
Who die in defence of - what?
Homes that they haven't got;
Who perish when all they ask
is to finish the daily task;
Make bread for the little ones
Not feed the greed of the guns
When fields of battle are red
And diplomats die in bed
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