Korea Poem

As a reporter I had been invited to see
a strange desolate land
the leader was a small desperate little man
come see for yourself, we have no such contraband

what much impressed me
was what I didn't see
no dog or cat or birds could I see
but even so
where would the birds go
there was nowhere any tree

no green bushes or landscaping could there be
no green grass or roses or beauty for the eyes to see
hungry lean people slowly walking desperately
millions of poor plodding souls steeped in their misery

the small native driver of the faded Kimchi cab
was saying things might not be so bad
we will soon have a weapon so huge
respect for our nation will come like a deluge

we could make explosions and make a fire and clouds as big as the sky
where untold hundreds of thousands could die
we will soon have missiles to reach those not so near
we can make the nations of the world recoil in fear

there had been a day when soldiers from afar
had fought here in a bloody often forgotten war
the ones who came were quite a mix of ethnicity
peoples came of every foreign nationality

there were stories of truth never told
of brave ones who died in the cold
how could the writers of the pages of history
have missed the real story of the terrible agony

where thousands and thousands of the yellow race
poured through the passes at a suicidal and bloody pace
on they came through smoke and fire and this man made hell
until the numbers of the dead was too large to tell

did the writers of history neglect or forget to say
that the numbers of dead on a particular day
saw the battle come to a terrible and horrible end
when the piles of dead across the pass, were impossible to transcend

that the charges of the red soldiers could across the entire pass only stop
when the thousands still coming could not of the dead, climb over the top
maybe such a story is impossible to tell
perhaps history is so very sensitive, maybe it's just as well

perhaps another story as well left alone and maybe not said
is of the soldiers who left their canteens unfilled, the rivers were too red
such a sight is hard for the mind to grasp and for the eyes
too hard for the imagination and numbed senses to realize

but one story that should never have been untold
is the one about soldiers who never died in the cold
thousands...thousands...left without a home or country
deserted by the nation they fought for to keep its people free

the driver had made a wrong turn and these eyes could see
in the village where we weren't supposed to be
a blonde haired blue eyed man by the well was looking at me
with tears in his eyes that spoke of hunger for liberty

before the guard could with his drawn weapon come near
he said there are many like me...many thousands here
whom ever in history could have told and held such a lie
about where we went and how we had to die

we will not and can never come home
we've been deserted and left all alone
we too had girlfriends and wives and loved babies
we had dear ones that we will never be able to see

we all know the happening years ago was the day
that they stamped us missing...called us...MIA
and told our families the unforgivable and shameless lie
that we did not come home, it was our turn to die

~ by Jack Pillow ~