Tell me is war and torture all that is left?
of a world full of people who claim to be deft,
at making peace, and healing the earth,
when taking life seems to start at birth,
when I was young it was war, war, war,
war with myself, and the entire plethora,
of man, machines, pollutants and fishing,
but they are still here,
there is no point in wishing,
that they were all gone, and our world is alright,
just keep watching the news every night,
it seems so mad, it cannot be sane,
that the world keeps on fighting,
and the words of this poem remains the same.
