On And On

On and on they go with
The declarations of hurt
We must hear.
This war and that war
That dead soldier and this one.
As if they are cartoons...
Or we are.

Where is our man of peace?
Or woman for that?
Our being that can take us
Far away from that intrinsic
Furore we are beset on?

On and on we go
Allowing
The world to become
So ugly.
Perhaps it is time
To phone the Klingons.
It would be good to
Hear some logic.

Let us talk forever
Before we need
To kill.






Poetry by jenks The PoetBay support member heart!
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Written on 2010-09-25 at 04:37

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Editorial Team The PoetBay support member heart!
This text has been chosen to be featured on the front page of PoetBay. Thank you for posting it on our poetry web site.
2010-09-28


NicholasG
This prescribed death is a vile and contagious disease, of which greed is the most common of symptoms.
2010-09-25