The Truth of Why We Fight
by Michael Doyle

In different times
How might it end?
Could it have been
We might have been good friends?

Your job and mine
Here on the frontline
It's a killing job to be done
Yet, you are somebody's son

There is the truth of why we fight
Mostly, it hasn't been about wrong or right
It's more about doing as told
But doesn't this killing business get old?

A string quartet plays its shame
Good guys, bad guys; it's just a name
We clean the rubble out of the courtyard
As life becomes death and hits us hard

It's a heck of a way to die
Jumping into glory without the question why
Beware of enemy territory
At least that's the moral of my story

(c) January 29, 2025   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved