Second Thought Warmongers
Listen boysStop playing with your toys
In your prams
Tossing them away as if
They hold no value.
Sort it out...
Start to be nice to each other.
Oh forget it shall we?
I cannot point in any direction from here.
Apart from this sweet compass that I own.
Listen
Hear yourself
You are your own belief.
There you are...
Right up down and next to me
I cannot go the way you do
I wonder who must be right
As if we know about fighting.
Ask a child about walking around.
Let him suck at his fingers
As you consign so many to die.
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2010-06-01 at 03:58
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