From cave pictures, with hand sprayed self portraits.
To a churches pulpit displaying Psalm Twenty Three.
The writing's on the wall
From mud huts to stately homes.
The writing's on the wall
From the bullet chipped, blood soaked wall of the firing squad
To the nail driven torso hanging from the eaves
The writing's on The Wall
From the cleaved head. Reminiscent of Salome's deed.
To a child's barrel-bombed and desecrated body, too
late to share the uncorrupted mind.
The writing's on The Wall
And from the push of the first button to the push
of the last button.
There will be NO writing on the wall
Is that the writing we want for us?
The world is at war and humanity is in flames.
And I have tears. But, nowhere to cry
A very very well written poem George.. The final line in one of the most beautiful ones I have read today. Thanks for sharing..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Brutally powerful message....From ancient there to contemporary here are we any more evolved? ....10
Thank you Simone. You get all that is trying to say