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Thursday, September 11, 2014

A 9/11 Revelation



the world's going, going, now it’s gone to hell
how do we save the children from all the shells
what part of the story do we have to tell
in order for the next generation not to fail
I wish I had a solution to save the frail
un-tarnished minds and hearts from the smell
of death, distorted realities, we all know so well
alas, there's nothing more poetic than a nail
that's hammered through the poet's heart to tell
the endless story of war and brutality, the holy grail
of illusion sold and bought by everyone, male and female
a gun in every home doesn't work at all, let alone as well
as love in every home for every home, but love doesn't sell
it doesn't increase the "Dow" or "S&P," love is free
it's hard to trust something so honest and so hard to see
maybe if we could sell goggles to view it in 3-D
as long as there are profits, everyone is happy
so if we could just make love turn a profit
larger than capital gains from wars being fought
our children would have a chance not to be caught
and tangled within all the bull shit their parents bought
life would start to have sustainable meaning and not
unsustainable, uncontrollable hatred for a whole lot
of stupid and senseless things causing their souls to rot
I could keep on going forever with this story's plot
because it has gone on forever, but that's really not
an excuse for it to keep going, so I'm going to stop

©September 11, 2014 – Tamara Imes-Nicholas


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