He's got a Blighty wound. He’s safe; and then <br />War’s fine and bold and bright. <br />She can forget the doomed and prisoned men <br />Who agonize and fight. <br /> <br />He’s back in France. She loathes the listless strain <br />And peril of his plight, <br />Beseeching Heaven to send him home again, <br />She prays for peace each night. <br /> <br />Husbands and sons and lovers; everywhere <br />They die; War bleeds us white <br />Mothers and wives and sweethearts,—they don’t care <br />So long as He’s all right.<br /><br />Siegfried Sassoon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/their-frailty/
