sometimes words just come up and out like vomit. 


All the guns grew arms

All the the guns grew hands

All the guns loaded themselves

As the people all were banned


And the AK's laid around 

Assualting rifles in a row

Waiting for the trigger

To start the shooting show


Not a thought was had

Not a word was said

No brain developed

No guns were good or bad


But the bows and the arrows

Communicated through their need

For one without the other

A useless instrument, indeed


As the wind caressed the strings

Blowing across the bows

The feathers in the arrows

Heard the song of kindred souls


And back in time they went

The weapons, tools, of humanity

Where a stone became a killer

In the hands of a jealous sibling, We


For we are the motive

And we are the tools

We are the trigger

Sadly, we are the fools. 




Poetry by Kathy Lockhart The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 246 times
Written on 2017-10-19 at 19:11

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Well done, Kathy. You've perfectly depicted the horrors of war. The last stanza summarizes the poem beautifully.

Profound, I just love the fifth stanza, you have managed to make something of beauty out of weaponry and us foolish humans.

Ashe The PoetBay support member heart!
Very nice words indeed!