Anzac Day

Anzac Day poem by Iris Carden

On Anzac Day we’re urged to remember
those who died as a price of war,
but spare a thought for those who came back,
and continue to pay more and more.

At the tomb of a soldier unknown
remember the known one too.
The one disabled, the one in the psych ward,
the street-dweller begging from you.

War brings death, we remember,
when the Anzac history’s spoken.
But please remember, not just the dead,
but those who came back broken.

They were all young once, 
with goals and hopes and dreams,
They went where they were ordered,
no questioning what orders mean.

The people who choose what wars to fight
are never on the front line.
They play with lives and futures
and act like that is fine.

War should be a last resort,
only when all else has failed.
A country’s youth is not a resource,
that should be cheaply for sale.

Surely lives ought not be forsaken
to buy vague political points. 
Sending young people to fight should be
done when there’s no other choice.

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