A poem on war.
Who will care for the children
when your war, when the fighting -is done?
Who will protect and deliver
when the mothers and fathers are gone?
Who ever cares about the children
when there’s call for blood in the air?
What good god would ever consider
a sacrificed child as a prayer?
Can you say that you care about innocence
while laughing at forgive and forget?
Is there not enough pity in those souls
to neglect the price of old dept?
Is there not enough room here for all of us?
Do we need so much power and space?
If you trust in your faith, let it be -warrior,
for your enemy mirrors your face.
Who will care for the children
when the last loving person is gone?
Then there will be no more children;
even your petty wars will be done.
