This world is creating monsters
Forming our children into the very thing we feared
Lurking below our beds.
The demons from the darkness are winning,
And we, the human race are allowing them access,
Allowing them to beat us past the post,
Allowing them to run passed us.
Leaving the doors unlocked for unrest
Molding the children's inquisitive brains like clay
into these worrying statues
With no emotions.
This world needs to open its' eyes.
Have we truly evolved?
Have we truly become the intelligent creatures we profess?
Whatever we are,
Creed, colour, religion, country,
We are humans, the same,
Why keep sending our babies to the grave?
For we all feel the pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Allowing them to run passed us. ..........i think you want past, as in the previous line. ? it's........its did i ever (EVER) claim to be an intelligent creature? ? another poem edging towards pessimism and depression! snap out of it. or is this just a trick to drive me to the wall? bri :)