Bow your undressed head
Before the cenotaph
A reverent monument
To warrior’s past
But not to glorify
Their tragic loss
But to mark the moment
And count the cost
Bow your undressed head
Before the cenotaph
A reverent monument
To warrior’s past
But not to glorify
Their tragic loss
But to mark the moment
And count the cost
Each faceless name
In neat regimen
Of stone mason’s text
Is one of the fallen
Long forgotten names
Cut deep into the
stone
Marking the sacrifice
Of battles Histories
The cold stone
sentinel
A poignant reminder
Time to scramble Tiny
Up into the blue
Up above your ceiling
To once more join your
crew
Look lively there
Rupert
Fly on, fly on
Up above your ceiling
Rejoin the squadron
Auschwitz in essence
Was a processing plant
Or perhaps more
accurately
A recycling plant,
Recycling an abundant
commodity,
i.e., lower forms of
life,
Into a revenue stream
By stripping the
resaleable parts
Clothing, jewellery,
hair, teeth
And burning what was
left.
A cold and calculated
business
Inhumanity on an
industrial scale.
So, the next time
You cast yesterdays
must have device
Into your recycling
bin
Just remember the
Germans did that with people
When they hear the recruiter’s call And they take the King’s shilling They’re trained and uniformed And marched towards the killing