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Dark Poetry #5
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World View
| Dark Poetry #5 |
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World View |
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Def-init Member
since 2008-12-03
Posts 186Toronto, Canada |
If today never happened Would tomorrow be the same? Would the most famous of us still be in the game? The world’s blood is boiling, The inhabitants are crying What else can you expect When Bush's reign isn’t dying? Crimes against humanity, crimes against the soil. What the hell wouldn’t he do For that lower priced oil? Reduced awareness, we shouldn’t be in the Middle East. A Continent in crisis, no food to eat not even spices. The African Nation is where the disease runs rampant Souls lost in a basin, enough blood to coat the pavement I envision 8 year old's with fanatic antics running with bombs No care in the world, pulling the pin reciting the psalms What else can you expect when half the population is raped? Racists from all races, the world’s tears are the rainfall. Wrists sliced with razors, too many lives cut short. Rail the next line, carry on and Sip that moonshine. In a cell block the newspaper's headline can’t shock us "The Fate of The Masses", a parole board in a deadlock Now I ain't Mr. Sherlock, I ain't built like Shamrock. Sure as hell ain't as pretty as Michael doing the moonwalk But my prayers won’t be silenced, even if left gagged and sightless Write the perfect cipher while fueling the silos What goes around comes around,a pure cyclone, So watch what you’re doing, in the street or home alone. Cause judgment comes to us all, it’s your choice to follow. Rise or fall, go in silence or bellow your call. World food prices climb. A depression is near cause no one spends a dime Gas costs soar like the price of uranium ore and alcohol at the liquor store Religion is pressing the soul. Picture a boy, 9 years old asleep on a mat Treated like nothing better than a common sewer rat. Head to toe he lays next to the other young boys like a litter of pups In his country there are no welfare start-ups. No hope of growing fatter To eat he finds a charred pancake cup and eats the batter The floor is concrete. He sleeps with a small 5x5 square sheet Covered in dew no protection cause of thin walls Bigger pups take his cover, so to a corner he crawls No protection from the 'draft', he shivers. No help can be delivered He awakes, Body shaped scrawny. He disappears under his torn t-shirt All he wants is love. All he needs is a meal and maybe a dessert The bombs fall and he hits the dirt. His senses on alert. His feet hurt. He runs away on the unpaved street. He sprints just to maintain heat. Never will he see his brothers again. He hides in a field of Wolf's Bane He wishes he was on a plane. To the Ukraine or the capital of Spain A bullet strikes. His life doesn’t remain. But at least it is a release from pain Cruelest fact is he was not stolen. Just Handed over to the leaders of the Quran Another life traded for religion in the middle of the Sudan. In war the scan for life is important like a job with an stock plan The world needs organization, man. We need a real public relations man. No one listens! They must think this is awfully boring. So I say shame on you It makes my eyes teary. I just wanna leave this world in a taxi. Because no one wants to believe... These words are based on a true story... |
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| © Copyright 2009 Brian M. Caouette - All Rights Reserved | |||
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SlowlyFallAway Member
since 2008-08-29
Posts 279North Carolina |
You have an amazing talent in this area of writing. I love how you can sum it all up and let the world know what's going on. I especially liked the last line |
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