Friends reunited (an Iraq war poem)

I've just seen my old friend Eddie,

On the BBC,
Digging in for battle,
While I'm tucking into tea.

I hadn't seen his boat race since the day we left Wrenn High,

And now he's in my living room,

Trying not to die.

The media's turned commando,

And love to wallow in their mire,

While Eddie dives for cover,

To dodge some friendly fire.

Between the baby by the burning bus,

And the bombed out local store,

Eddie's fighting street to street and smashing down a door.

It's been 3 weeks of blood and guts,
Morning, noon and night,
Though Eddie's on me telly still,
I've lost the stomach for the fight.

I find I'm watching Corrie more,
Instead of watching war,
'cause Eddie's done those somersaults
A thousand times before.