Around # 3
the hand of God, the hand of fate,
where do you cast the blame?
humanity, cursed by apathy,
acts of murder in God's name.
national pride, guess what they lied,
putting money in the bank.
bombs falling, terror crawling,
putting gas in the tanks.
and the world comes crashing down.
in too deep, the fearful drown.
stand up and be, or just sit down.
what goes around comes around.
poem by Eric Cockrell

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!