There were poets in the army
Who chose to fight a war
Within the war, poets who penned the pain,
Poets who fired their words against war
"Fire your guns, not your poems!"
Screamed a red-faced commander,
"Make every bullet count, you dogs!"
And soldier-poets made
Their metaphors show
The shocking wounds, the battered men
The headless bodies running to nowhere,
The scream of blood against the trembling earth
Those tropes hoped to change the troops,
Hoped to pick the fragments of life
And stitch up the wounded land.
-- Obododimma Oha.
No comments:
Post a Comment