They gathered in their suits
Formal leader's dress
With ironed on smiles
Worn just for the Press.
They were here to talk peace
Or maybe just retreat
Or any other form of words
Save those of defeat
He wore his medals
Sitting quietly there
In his combat dress
And issue wheel chair.
A veteran of two wars
But now in the past
That lost leg meant
He'd just fought his last
They filed into their limos
For the formal ride
He unfurled the banner
Concealed at his side
He tried to show his despair
He really truly did his best
But he was quietly and firmly
Placed under close arrest
And the leaders in their suits
Having saved their face
By agreeing to withdraw
With an ill forced grace
Ate their five course meal
While he faced the hell
Of hostile interrogation
In his closed military cell
