In a haze of medication induced dispair (fortified with a couple of beers and some old photographs) I wrote this today. As I flick through the chat rooms and headline-induced winging and bumping about how everyone else is to blame for the state of the nation, the reason they can't have everything they want, I dedicate this poem to the soldiers of today and of yesteryear...who can't answer the question, 'why did you join the services?' LAST MAN STANDING As the rain beat down upon the warriors face He looked up to the sky He bellowed out to the mighty gods The single question Why? As his gaze panned out across the plain To the scene that lay before The thousand dead, the thousand scarred A sea of blood, of pain, of gore For no-one knew where it had all begun What spark had lit the fire That burned the soul out of his folk And caused all hope to tire For now he stood upon the mound Alone with but his shield And the memories of times gone by When he played upon this field As the wind bit deep into his skin And a tear fell from his eye He dropped his shield, fell to his knees And once more cried out...Why? How can we defend ourselves and others from an enemy that lives within? As a society we are ripping ourselves apart because we haven't got the balls to admit our own failings, weaknesses and greed. Whatever the future brings - boys and girls I would ask that you bring value to each and every day that you take the Queen's crown. If you can't - Chin Up.....and take the six clicks to freedom (JPA Speak).