Prisoners of War

We pity them with placards and parades,
an ebon flag whose snowy silhouette
portrays the ones we never should forget;
the shades too drawn to relish cannonades.
But who could ever overlook those gaunt
defiant faces staring hungrily through bars,
or battered bodies riddled with the scars
whose lividness will likely always haunt
our dreams. Commandos plot offensive schemes
anew, determined to eradicate
the worthless scum their doctrines designate
deterrents to their prejudiced regimes.
It’s getting harder as each day goes by
to look our fellow inmates in the eye.