Poem -

COUNTING THE DEAD

The police chief sat at a desk in an abandoned school 
His daily task would be both stressful and cruel 
He was assigned to collect details of the dead 
Not a most pleasant task for him it has to be said 

Every few minutes the chief's mobile gave a shrill
Another dead body taken certainly against their will
The details he took were always written the same
Age, location and if he was lucky maybe a name 

The number of the dead upsets greatly the chief 
No sign of an end and no sign of any relief 
So if you're having a bad day think of this man 
Counting the cost of war in Russsia's master plan

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