Life goes on…: A poem 

Wounds may never or take time to heal 

Animals are always desperate for a meal 

But who has desperation and greed’s keel? 

Ask those brokers who make their shady deals  

All the turrets of civilisation are stations for guns 

A psychopath’s cruelty is his occupation and fun 

Voices of biased prerogatives aim at being dusted and done 

So why can’t corruption and war answer who has won? 

There is no charity of demeanour in the rush-hour train 

And nobody wants to know the crooked fellow’s pain 

A beggar feels helpless and lonely in the pouring rain 

Humanity is lost and still believes it has resolutely gained 

A picketer’s conviction is insisting who is to blame 

The politician only drives in his traffic of ruse and game 

The UN is defunct. Its warnings are all too tame 

Life goes on…without the prick of guilt or shame