Who did any writer ever save? When did words raise anyone from the grave? Has the great mind, ever by writing, Put an end to war and fighting? Ideas like icebergs, drift then melt, And gradually no change is ever felt, Because shortly after publication, Of their high ideals, and their computations, Of why mankind just loves killing, Still so many are oh so willing, To join the disparate armies of the world, As soon as the flags have been unfurled.
Who did any writer ever save? When did words raise anyone from the grave? Has the great mind, ever by writing, Put an end to war and fighting? Ideas like icebergs, drift then melt, And throughout history no change is ever felt, Because shortly after publication, Of their high ideals, and their computations, Of why mankind just loves killing, Still so many are oh so willing, To join the disparate armies of the world, As soon as the flags have been unfurled. No matter that so many have already died, They wear the team colours with such pride, And march off to the tune played by the piper, Paid for by the profit driven viper, Who wraps his coils around the nation, As history screams in absolute frustration, That out of nothing, the money men of war, Have created another cause, worth killing for! Tom Higgins 25/08/2012
