Poem By Hannie Rouweler
Winning the Battle, Losing the War
In his lair he makes up his plans and nobody
sees where he wants to go
until thousands are killed, even young soldiers
from his own army.
What does this worthless strategist think he will be left with?
A smashed city where not a stone is standing upright
is his legacy.
The seized regions were stolen by him
and no country in the world
will recognize its independence. Not now, not later.
Never.
His war is lost in advance
and he a persona non grata everywhere.
His features show the cracks of a divided land
that he should rule in his bunker in Moscow,
the blind and unscrupulous greedy conqueror.