In Manchester a
mad man kills children
By strapping on
a bomb for an idea
So pure and
ludicrous that it makes Nazism
Seem like a fun
family picnic
Man’s
inhumanity to man knows no bounds
My daughter
watches the news without sound
But the images are
enough to tick
Boxes in her
head about whom is who
And what is
what in the world
People killing
people for ideology
Or in some
cases even for fun
I cuddle my
daughter in the midst of brutality
Try to instruct
her in the ways of humanity
But I feel a creeping
fear the warlords are winning
Especially
while Donald Trump keeps grinning
All the focus
on Mars while Earth
Goes to hell in
a hand basket
It’s video game
logic
Hope was the
last out of Pandora’s box
But her walk on
the wild side has run us out of luck
The cycle
repeats as generations are born and die
We are all dust
in the mote of the Universe’s eye
© shaun patrick
green 2017
