Futility

Once I had the strangest dream
about this crazy world,
all the horrors of the age
started to unfurl.

I saw children crying for
a measly crust of bread,
Mothers standing helpless
Fathers lying dead.

Sounds of guns and bullets,
mines that killed and maimed,
armies playing soldiers
in deadly earnest games.

Greed that shone in tyrant eyes
the lust for power within,
people being murdered
for the colour of their skin.

I can’t put up with this I cried
something must be done,
so I threw the world in a melting-pot
and we all came out as one.

I raced up to the High street
crowds had gathered there,
a man was being tortured for
the colour of his hair.

Screaming rage, stones were thrown
Anarchy prevailed,
man could never live in peace
the melting-pot had failed.

The world is in an awful mess
money rules the roost,
human life is worth far less
than dirt beneath one’s boot.