Mothers and fathers
of those who won’t grow old
because of other men’s plans
you have someone to blame
you have someone to blame
Their hearts are so cold
they would kill your son
with a movement of their pen
and still you take their flag
and still you take their flag
They write you a letter
and shoot into the air
and celebrate today those who escaped alive
the riots of their murderous machinations
Wilfred Owen does it infinitely better.