"Murder..." rumble the balding mountains
"Murder..." trickle the acidic streams
"Murder..." gasps the thickly stinking breeze
"Murder..." rasp the bloody stones still smouldering from the bombs
"Murder!" cries the skeleton mother her starved baby in her arms
And there he sits in his Ivory Tower taking count
Counting useless bills and numbers in virtual accounts
Counting barrels of black slime
Counting body bags from across the sea
Counting votes as they trickle in
"All is well" he says
Some say it better than me
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2 comments:
very poetic,this mourn
Brilliant.
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