War
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Andrew Staunton, Grade 8
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Poetry
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2005
Why is there war?
It's because we are greedy,
Because we all forget,
The helpless, the poor and the needy.
As the soldier starts preparing,
Up comes the blazing sun,
He puts on his boots,
And cleans his gun.
The trenches are being dug,
And the guns begin to rise,
There is shooting in the battlefield,
And soldiers are shot between the eyes.
The horrible stench of death is smelt,
And the bodies lay on the ground,
Now the war is over,
You cannot hear a sound.