Now Our Sons

© Charles E. Corry 1994

When we were young we marched off to war.

Oh, the colors were bright and

Excitement and adventure loomed large.

And now it is time to send our sons.

Is the flag less now that we are fathers?

The poverty of our leaders more evident

When we look back instead of forward?

And now it is time to send our sons.

Was the great game still the same

For Kipling when he lost his son

In the mud at Verdun?

And now it is time to send our sons.

Our heros are legion, and

Chesty you still shine, but

Your son's lost his legs to a mine.

And now it is time to send our sons.

They stand so tall and proud

In their ranks of green though

Their weapons are strange and grim.

For now we have sent our sons.

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