Star Dust

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