Chris Tutton
Broken Ground
We were conscientious objectors
Unprepared to take up arms
or allegiances
Helpless, tear stained
Running upstairs to escape
The slaughter of our innocence
Fingering our ears to
Mute the battle cries
We were the peace makers
The dispossessed, the war orphans
Slipping round the back of the
Dance hall on Saturday night
Looking for affection like it had been
Lost there in the darkness.
Page(s) 22
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