A Question Poem by Bill Mitton

And the barbed wire never ceases
And the craters never fill.
The guns are made and the guns are sold
And in the end they kill.

And the bombers drone unending
And the missiles fill the sky
And the people fear and then they run
And as refugees, then ask, Why?

And the politicians argue
And the Generals plot and via
And the young are set to soldiering
And in the end they die.

And the earth just goes on circling
And her borders rise and fall
Does our evolutionary process
Hold no place for PEACE at all?