If all men were like laughter
A friend of everywhere
Our world would be far better
Than this blazing ball of fear

A refugee camp I paid a visit a forthnight ago
Astoundingly, under the half-moon, were children boisterous
With a mouthful of laughter, all played even those with irrecoverable loss

A bush lamp beams with a radiant smile
Illuminating the features of the men of the round mat
They sat, even chat about the rat-at-tat
And under the smile of the bush lamp, I could see their deformed bodies
Some had lost an arm
Some a leg
While one wished he had lost mere body parts and not precious Meg
All were badly deformed
Yet joke, a faithful forerunner of laughter
Like a cannon ball struck down the steel door
To let in laughter like a heavy down pour
Laughter, the friend of everywhere
He paid a visit to even there
For he said, life must go on
Hence, he illuminated the camp like the noonday sun

If all men were like laughter
A friend of everywhere
Our world would be far better
Than this blazing ball of fear