It's not amusing,
I'd say it's confusing,
As a species we've a burning desire,
It's not all I'm accusing,
But we do love abusing,
Is it something we really require?
To kill and destroy,
We use like a toy,
Then proclaim we're intelligent life,
It does annoy,
How we seem to enjoy,
The subject we know as strife.
How does it feel,
When what we conceal,
Is finally rightfully exposed,
It is no big deal,
Knowing it's real,
On wars we have all overdosed.
Is madness instilled,
When we boast we have killed?
The terrorists or that they have killed us,
If that's what god's willed,
Does it leave us fulfilled?
Why don't we kick up a fuss?
Each and every day,
Someone's taken away,
By those who've no conscience or fear,
We don't have a say,
There's nothing to pay,
The outrage will soon disappear.
All life is fair game,
We're devoid of all shame,
Our barbarism no god would allow,
We don't accept blame,
Common decency we defame,
We're about to find out,
‘' And How ‘'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem