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Breathe in the Dust

I have my own little piece of the world.
Sure, it has its problems, but nothin’ too much.
It has its pleasures and there’s more than enough.
And I’ll share them with you; I will share them with you.

So, put down that rifle, and put down that gun.
Let’s take back those words that hatred begun.
Let’s tear down those icons that make us ignore
The cries of our own, the cries of our own.

Too busy in haste, too light on respect.
The world’s just a blur and right just a spec.
Now we breathe in the dust of our leader’s corruption
And aid and abet in our own souls abduction.

Beguiled by the words we believed to be true;
for they were said with a smile and, they were said on the news.
No hidden agendas...?  We’re programmed to believe.
Are we just losin’ interest, or are we naive?

Who started the fightin’?  It weren’t you or me.
I didn’t know that I hated, ‘til they planted the seed.
Now we’re runnin’ around shoutin’ death to them all.
When we’re all just as frightened and all just as small.

While the leaders of nations rub their hands with delight
‘cos they won’t shed their blood though they started the fight.
And the next generation will breathe in the dust
To further the aims of our corrupt leader’s lust.

I have my own little piece of the world.
It has its problems, but nothin’ too much.
It has its pleasures and there’s more than enough.
And I’ll share them with you; I will share them with you.
 

PoetrypoemconflictwarCorruptionpeace

The Turmoil of my Sin ►

Comments

tony sheridan

Fri 12th Oct 2012 19:43

Nice one! Take care, Tony.

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