Reply #11: We are taught [View All]

[CornField]

We are taught from the time we are infants that when disaster strikes... when the unbelievable happens... when the entire world has gone crazy... that we should come together with our family. Those in war zones remember those lessons and they come together - husbands, wives, children, parents, cousins, uncles, nieces, nephews, aunts, grandparents. Unfortunately, war isn't a family value nor does it respect the family unit. Large gatherings are seen as a threat and they are targeted from miles away.

And, when the bombs fall and the people fall, after the rubble is cleared away to expose the defunct family unit, the people are initially outraged. Quickly, however, defenses crop up as we shake our heads to remove the truth from our minds. Surely these were fighters! Surely these civilians were somehow connected to those who wish harm! Surely the bad people were using these civilians as shields! This type of thing always happens during a war!

----------

Once upon a time in the land of hushabye,
Around about the wondrous days of yore,
I came across a sort of box
Bound up with chains and locked with locks
And labelled "Kindly do not touch. It's war."

Decree was issued round about
All with a flourish and a shout
And a gaily coloured mascot tripping lightly on before,
"Don't fiddle with this deadly box or break the chains or pick the locks
And please, don't ever play about with war."

Well, the children understood.
Children happen to be good
They were just as good around the time of yore.
They didn't try to pick the locks, or break into that deadly box
They never tried to play about with war

Mommies didn't either -
Sisters, aunts, grannies neither -
Cause they were quiet and sweet and pretty in those wondrous days of yore
Well... very much the same as now, and not the ones to blame somehow
For opening up that deadly box of war

But someone did...
Someone battered in the lid,
And spilled the insides out across the floor.
A sort of bouncy, bumpy ball with guns and flags and all the tears and horror and the death that goes with war.

It bounced right out
And went bashing all about
And bumping into everything in store.
And what was sad and most unfair is that it didnt seem to care who much it bumped
Or why, or what, or for.

It bumped the children mainly
And I'll tell you this quite plainly
It bumps them every day, and more and more, and leaves them dead and burned and dying
Thousands of them sick and crying.
Cause when it bumps, its really very sore.

Now theres a way to stop the ball.
It isn't difficult at all.
All it takes is wisdom. I'm absolutely sure that we could get it back into the box,
And bind the chains and lock the locks.
But no one seems to want to save the children any more.

Well, that's the way it all appears,
Cause its been bouncing round for years and years.
In spite of all the wisdom wizzed since those wondrous days of yore.
And the time they came across the box,
Bound up with chains and locked with locks,
And labelled "Kindly do not touch. It's war."