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Afghan Fields

I’ve not been to Afghanistan
Fred has
He’s seen the summer dust
He’s breathed the summer dust
He’s felt the winter snow
He’s walked the fields
where those other poppies grow

Fred’s eyes have measured the mountain heights
that divide the valleys – that divide the fights
that divide the people of that land
His ears have heard these divided people crying
He has smelt the smells of the dead and dying
And the cries of soldiers – of our land – hurt
By roadside bombs – hidden in the dirt

Tell me Fred
All the dead
Are they a price
oh such an evil price – that must be paid
for people in that land – to be no more afraid
to live their lives free of tyrannical yoke?
We can’t hope to understand – we lucky folk

(Singer/songwriter Fred (Iain) Smith known as “The Singing Diplomat” spent more than a government official living with Australian soldiers in Afghanistan)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 4/25/2016 8:10:00 PM
A powerful poem, SKAT
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Date: 4/25/2016 10:58:00 AM
Robin, deep write... This is an unusual flow.... but, for some reason I love the way it reads... Enjoyed... Linda
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