We thought the war was far away
and spoiling someone else’s day
but suddenly things took a turn:
on telly we saw rockets burn
across the sky, cities were hit …
our cities. That’s what started it.
It seems that one lot broke the rules
and used their nukes, the bloody fools.
Then other nutters used theirs too
and smashed the nuclear taboo.
New York, Rome, Moscow, Gay Paree …
our own dear London ceased to be
and countless millions were surprised
to find that they’d been vaporised.
It seems unfair: we bought the flags,
donated clothes in plastic bags,
showed solidarity online,
agreed that Putin was a swine,
said worthy things on Twitter too …
what else were we supposed to do?
The Government, in whom we trust,
tell us a cloud of deadly dust
will come our way and pretty soon
but, sadly, no one is immune.
It’s radiation: stuff, we’re told
will kill us slowly. We’re consoled
that all our neighbours, too, will die
so this small note’s to say goodbye
but who’s to read it, for the dust
gets everybody, as it must.
We hug each other, whisper love.
The sky is darkening above.
We thought, it’s someone else’s war:
alas, it isn’t any more.
Richard Fleming
Image : © When the Wind Blows - Raymond Briggs
