Panels on the wall,

pictures in the hall,

depict a great fall.

Artist hands predict

endless conflict

and all that comes from it.

A history of war

drawn out in score,

bodies stacked from ceiling to floor.

Not enough to change

the way we’ve been estranged,

we walk away ashamed.

The finger points the way,

the mind inside decays

and all our sons are led astray.

Elites born to lead,

black crop from tainted seed,

birth the world, just to watch it bleed.

Panic in the eyes,

lies, no big surprise,

for the fire can never be satisfied.

Heed the call to harm,

a profession of arms

is noble, but only so far.

The screens before us now,

showing us the ground

of far off bombs coming down.



HG – 2022

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