Ethnic (Winner Of Adelaide Word Festival Award) Poem by Mark (Owen) Williams

Diversity brings tragedy to people who have no power
day... month... hour... tick away… tick away
As the world waits for change, but this change does not come
And the count just goes on and the hatred remains.

Despair, woe, despair, the soldiers they care… for nothing.
They cleanse their own land, with guns in their hand
And a smile on their face and lust in their eyes,
cause their people to hide, make their country divide
As neighbour fights neighbour and the fate of us all
Resides in the call of the Beast. Genocide.

Internment camps, so cold, dark and damp, are common place here,
Engulfed in the fear that surrounds all that call hell… their home.
As the carnage rolls on, world peace is a con, for the machine known as “war” knows the way and the way it is paved, rich in blood, have your say – here today… bodies lay..
The news it reports, the West they support
Peace.
But as long as there is profit and the funding for death, the war will not cease – see the Beast as he feasts… in the sun.
See him dance at the work he has done.