We might not ask you to go to war in a foreign field,

however in the hundred years since the flower of youth

died needlessly and with great pain, we have lied

to you over and over again, and I for one as an old man apologise

for what the world has done to you.

This flowering youth, every generation’s future bright young things,

constantly lied to, not just here but the world over,

until they become the embodiment of the lie to sell

on again and keep the splintered, creaking wheel