War. Remind Me. What is it Good For?

I make my bed in the morning as I think of the elderly woman fleeing who hasn’t slept in 3 days.

I brush my teeth as I think of the young man who lost his yesterday from shrapnel coming through the window.

I fix my coffee as I think of the little girl who is crying for lack of water in the deep dark train tunnel.

I get dressed as I think of the mother clutching the last dress she has, the one she’s worn for the last ten days as she holds her baby tight, wondering if her world is coming to an end.

War. What is it good for?

That’s the old song. It says it’s good for nothing. It says it brings no solution. It says it only brings heartache and decay.

Remind me. What is it good for?

I jump into my car, driving across town, and I think of the men, barely learning the world, crammed into tanks, being lied to about their missions and their cause.

I sit at my desk as I think of the soldier huddled with his gun, waiting for the shot.

I walk down the hall as I think of the many who may never walk back through their door.

I leave for home as I think of the millions who are fleeing their own, never knowing if they’ll return.

War. What is it good for?

That the age old question. It’s said to be a folly. It’s said to be for purpose. It’s said to be the point in which decisions can be made.

Remind me. What is it good for?