Liberty

Liberty

‘Liberate your words-’ he shouted,
‘-and make your voices heard’.
None of us had ever doubted
What we knew to be absurd.

So we were clad in your beliefs;
And packaged up for war.
Fight to the death- for our country,
But what are we fighting for?

We headed off to war with no-one but ourselves,
To a fight a battle already lost.
To kill and bomb,
It’s just our population’s loss.

When they leave,
Let us start to mourn
Because they’re gone for good,
From our lives they’re torn.

But for what?
To fulfil an ego never satisfied.
To prove but one man’s point?
Patriotic, what a joke,
Just a country who worships Coke.

No-one’s perfect,
that’s for sure,
But some are inhumane.
Wars and bombing,
Pro death and pain.

Liberty, yes indeed;
Just a label- an empty creed.

I wrote this poem last year, I think, for a poetry competition aptly named Liberate you words. I was proud of it, and everyone really liked it. I stopped feeling so proud because of that latter. After some analysis, I realised people seemed to like it because they could understand it; it made sense; the knew what it was about. A lot...well, nearly all of my stuff is barley any of these things. It was in my anthology last year. Many of the people I let read it told me it was my favourite. When I read it at a reading the people clapped louder and sighed appreciatively for this poem.
Why did I post it on here? I guess, in a way, I am still proud of it. I mean, it is articulate, and topical. I seems like the kind of piece I'll look back at later and, depending on the type of person I am, either be impressed of embarrassedof my former writing. I don't know what else to write now. I'm contemplating posting more work from my anthology on this blog, but I am unsure. Oh, one more little thing. I remember being proud because I remembered the word 'creed'. I had read it and, not knowing what it meant, I had looked it up in the dictionary; actually using it gave me a thrill.