Plaint Poem by Moonchild Diva

If the heart melts down to the size of a stone,
and the blood goes black in the veins,
how long does it take to fry up the brain,
and what becomes of the soul?

Go ahead, dropp another bomb on us,
poison the air,
I guess we just don’t make enough noise,
us, the ones who say they care.

Tragedy, tragedy, the storm never ends,
make it stop, world of pain,
tragedy, tragedy, don’t talk it to death,
just make it stop, world of pain.

How long does it take for a child to expire,
who’s gone without food for days?
Why can’t they be fed without a fight
about who doesn’t have to pay?

Where do the ones who don’t have a craft,
get money for drugs, for guns?
If they can be used by men without values,
why can’t they be helped by us?

Tragedy, tragedy, the storm never ends,
make it stop, world of pain,
tragedy, tragedy, don’t talk it to death,
just make it stop, world of pain.