Friendship and wars
The generation of today thing they live in a perilous time
I was born before the World War 2 when millions of
civilians were killed and often we went hungry to bed.
Time is always bad there are interludes we remember with
fondness but often they are imagined
All we can do is to keep the peace as long as possible.
I remember the face of the dead child when American troops
invaded Bagdad, for the record it has been invaded and
ransacked before it is only history repeating itself and it is
a laugh when the guilty say they are sorry for what they did
the boy will not be older only his mother remembers him and
the war had the best western intention.
But the white face of the dead boy haunts me like my own death
as the evening draws near I pretend of being the exception.
My best friend Tom was gay and how we laughed and in his company
I was safe, mind he told me to shut up when I got too morbid,
he had the sunshine in his soul while I bore grudges
He was a jobbing actor cancer stole him from me it was a sad day
this Algarvian soil so dry and grey before the rain.