• On the ground, in the dirt, sits a frightened child.
    With broken skin and watery eyes she looks not human, but wild.

    Barely clothed in rags, she weeps, begging each passer by.
    Hoping for coins to buy a drink to quench her thirst, or die.

    A ball of fire is the Sun, bringer of heat and hurting.
    Smoke and filth is in the air; like in an oven, we’re burning.

    Pockets bulging and purses tinkling, suits and dresses sashay past.
    Money makes the world go round, but now we realise at last.

    Are we worthy of the good earth if our very hands wield torture?
    Cats and dogs to the ugly frogs, they deserve kindness and good nature.

    I have black skin, you have white skin, her over there is both.
    But I know someone who’s dead and buried without a skin at all.

    A man was on the train and there were bombs strapped to his chest.
    What was the mother thinking, as she watched with a child on her breast?

    My best friend was murdered yesterday, stabbed by a bunch of youths.
    His skin was shiny, a beautiful brown, not a disgusting hue.

    Why can’t each religion keep to its own without the kamikaze antics?
    In the end, we all believe in God, no need to get frantic.

    Did you see that poor old man? Bored at a ceremony?
    He was in the war, a hero before and had been fighting for harmony.

    Sixty years on and wrinkled and weak, he closed his eyes and said,
    What if that battle had never been fought, has any change been made?

    The world is torn and confused, broken by painful cries.
    Good and bad, with life and death, like scorpions and butterflies.

    You have the power and the mind; surely you also have a heart.
    Open your eyes, see through the lies, know the world is falling apart.