How can so few men
Just one or two men
start wars, when a war is so huge?

Did they take a moment
to visit each parent
to measure the weight of each soldier’s life
lost?
The ultimate sacrifice?
Did they count that cost?

Did they ask each child,
are you OK to live on,
shattered,
alone,
your parents gone
on your own?

Did that matter?

Did they see the families,
huddled in a dark underground void?
Pounded by bombs that rain from above
protected by nothing but dumb-luck and love?
Seized by a fear that might never leave?
Did they grieve for the innocence
destroyed?

Did they foresee the refugee
afloat in a small weak boat
crossing the sea
with nothing but hope?

As they launched each rocket
did they put in our pocket
a fair share of money
to repair, to rebuild, to restore
to train more
carers,
surgeons,
therapists?

Did they think of all the bombs that missed the battle?

Did they see the people strewn
like cattle?

Did they see for themselves that human muscle is nothing but meat?
Did they smell the dust, feel the searing heat,
hear the fear,
the fall,
the roar,
the end of it all?

Were they honest that they never lied?
Never tossed lives to the wind like seeds caught in a breeze with no thought to cost?
Just their own hold on power,
their ivory tower,
their pride.

How can so few men,
just one or two men,
start a war that the law
the hopes
the prayers
the letters penned
of mothers
of brothers
of millions
can’t end?

                                                                Ali Bailey