Nearing the end of the teenage years – this poem depicts the anger felt for everything not understood. For the wars and murders that – if there was a God – could be stopped, or could they? I’m still not sure 26 years later!
Crazy man who made this world,
you let us live til life fulfilled,
we fade away and slowly die,
til in the ground we’re left to lie.
What was the point in giving life
with knowledge of the gun and knife?
You could’ve if you had been willing
stopped us from our murderous killing.
Why then dear old ‘God above’
let us kill? - For lack of love?
Some lightning here and thunder there
might make us begin to care.
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