Poetry

Day

By 1st January 2006December 9th, 2019No Comments

As the bullets fly on war torn lands,
And shoppers die with purse in hand.
As western techno is turned around,
Death Mobile not for fun.

As children grow with minds of hate,
With kill the infidel they relate.
As sense washed out in such young heads,
The old sad men detonate.

Old they are because others do,
Their blood and guts to me and you.
Wielding their evil doom,
Recruiting from the praying room.

Oil and money the real goal,
Not democracy as we’re told.
For the suits of the world,
Believing men fight so bold.

So today more are dying,
For protection of the lying.
Yet many of us will just live,
As we always did.

Today we are,
Tomorrow may be a step too far

Paul ONeal

Author Paul ONeal

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