Awash with tiny miracles
this sprawling human sea.
That spans the whole world over,
And yet we see just 'Me'.
With so many millions dying
of disaster, famine flood.
We are turned to tears so simply,
over just one persons blood.
Retiring to our homesteads,
our castle or city views.
We sit and watch the world unfold,
upon the evening news.
An opera plays out daily
'Cause of death, exploded bomb'.
And we sit as spectators,
Viewing channel 501.
Heath Gunn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem