Call Us Farmers

Call us farmers of a sort.  We sew our bombs and bullets
Everywhere, and, afterward, we reap a bumper crop
Of refugees.  Alas, we have no use for them, nor do our
Many wealthy friends.  We dump our harvests into camps
Or let them drift across the sea.





Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2024-12-04 at 17:40

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alarian The PoetBay support member heart!
a deadly situation...at the origin of the great migrations, impacting the poorest countries, there are the climate changes

personally, half the planet is ready to declare the war..I think it could start in Asia
tensions are everywhere, changes are happening so fast (climate, technology) that no one is prepared to adapt to the new economy
I know it's a strong summary to explain what is going on...probably too big a shortcut to give a straight and suitable answer...
2024-12-04