Oh bring colour to the desert where gardens never grew and make the sun shine for those who have cried in silence for years .
War is the produce of seeds sewn in anger and many weeds now have been grown on wastelands watered by millions of tears .
Its always the same in a place where blame is like a submarine not allowed to surface and flowers never dance in the rain .
Soldiers , journalists, cameramen , are lined up on the streets of Iraq , waiting to see the faces of their loved ones again .
The erosion of years have seen oceans of tears capsize Baghdad but a boat's about to set sail across the seven seas .
Barack bring them back from Iraq to their corners of the Earth where love can welcome them home with no more terrorists to seize .
On a fair wind to a safe harbour they come with memories like thunder to keep them company in the sunshine of the day .
Now is the time to rescue the life that is left and give rest to those weary workers there who for too long have been away .
By Paul McCann
Originally Posted On Site: 2009-01-18 02:05:14
Last Login: 05.24.12
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