The Colours of War
Among the crazed blood and gore, I can remember the colours of war.
The red of the flames,
The black of the smoke,
The grey of the charred earth,
The dust that could choke.
Why did we have to fight using a knife, killing the people in exchange for life If we and them wanted a thing called
freedom,
Why did we have to struggle to meet them? The painting called war had a very small
spectrum; The browns, blacks and reds could use
some correction Would there be green if we had had
friendship, If we were not shot at from all of the
trenches?
I can remember the brown of the sky, The cold, blackened plains, the dust in my
eye. The colours of war could just make you
cry,
When you look at a graveyard and wonder "Why?"
Andrew Poelstra Grade 6