High living


High living what does it mean?
Eating caviar or to live on the highest
Flat on a Grenfell tower in London
without a sprinkling system?
Having lunch at an expensive café
because it has a famous chef or
drinking tea from China instead
of drinking it from a cracked mug?
I call it costly living.
Moving around finding a distraction
because after money life is boring.

High Tech
In the Silicon Valley the sit the tsars of high tech
producing stuff, you didn't know you needed
They know the Armageddon is coming but try
not to stop it, as it will obstruct their profit.
When the world resources are depleted and
nuclear war beckons, they are too busy to find
a secure place to survive the upcoming wars.
With all their intelligence combined, they see
not the indefinite human mind, their survival
will be a vast nothingness

High tide
May, warm sunlight, mild breeze and under
a parasol casts a cooling shade.
The hum of insect
A barking dog
White clouds on blue velvet
The peace is restless a sense of danger
the big powers have been banging on their war drums
conditioning us
we are being groomed for war
It is like psychoses, we want war now
fight for the fatherland against an enemy not defined
the noble death
The song contest in Europe has done a coup, but it
Is not enough
Two jet fighters streak across the sky they are flying low
piloted by flinty eyes.
Perhaps the coming war is a natural progression
a bloodletting that happens in regular intervals
nothing can be done like Thor's hammer it strikes
when it want to
evening now grass are asleep
the shade has become night
we can't but wait

Hinterland

It is not a romantic outpost but a place of survival
The landscape, mountains and forests are war zones
where battles are ongoing.
There are no rulebooks here, it is raw capitalism  
in action, the strongest always wins.
A moose cow’s newborn must get up ready to run
in minutes after birth predators are on the hunt.
Wolf packs fight over dominance; insects **** insects
In this dance of death, the sparrow eats flies.
The talon of an eagle grips a trout and eat it alive.
When the sleeping bear awakes, pity the salmon.
This cycle of life if broken by man, spells disaster.

they called him excellency and a name I forgot.
As it turns out my wife´s brother was his book-keeper
a profession where the person knows a lot of secrets.
The meeting will be conducted in French.
I, thinking of Galloway calling Saddam Hussein
his excellency, must not chuckle.
Since we didn´t know what to serve him, we bought
a bottle of whiskey I had a taste and got instantly ill
the strong drink doesn´t behove me well.
She hopes he will pay for the patient´s stay with
us and the hospital bill.
I think the meeting will go well if I sit still and call
him your excellency without giggling.

His first love

No, it was not a dream there was a war going on
of which he understood little only that the German soldiers
that was camped nearby gave him chocolate.
He had met a little girl and was in love they sat under
a wooden bridge, the water trickled when he asked her to marry him.
She said no and he bit her arm.
She cried and ran home to her mother.
He was told not to be so aggressive, the little girl´s new boyfriend
was a farm boy his contempt was absolute.
The war was coming to an end the German army surrendered and was marched to the railway station, he waved they had been
good friends, was told not to he waved anyway his streak of protest.
Enemy and friend, it is difficult to know when you are four years old.

History lesson
All that means nothing is pearls on a neck one means nothing
but many of them tell a story of inequity the Palestinians have lost the propaganda war  
so what about it there will be a large Israel with two religions
Big deal history changes fortunes, and progress without our opinion.
Yet all this nothingness no one reads about is the unwritten history
as things are should the Palestine people by fortune and luck win the race for power
there will be useful idiots like me defending the right
of the Zionist to have their exclusive land, but not in our backyard.
We do not anything but will protest in the Guardian but do little about is as
we do nothing about the settlers on the west-Bank.
In the end, it means nothing as wars continue and people think
The god is on their side because some prophet said so.

History of the people

At the Newmarket, it was the oldest one
in town,  the farmers came with horse and cart selling their produce
Their women folks sold thick long underwear,
handy in winters when the North-westerly blew.
Over the scene of banter and friendly business hung
the aroma of horse and the whiff of a wee dram.
The change to modern time came slowly at first some farmer
had bought trucks it was easier that way and warmer too.
Then one day there were no horses left exhaust fume and rain
time was going a little faster no time for a chat, and I was
fifteen and had other interests.
It was the work- horses that made the Newmarket more pretty.
Oddly enough the iron rings on the fence where horses
were *******, are still there… waiting
for the warm breath of a steed.

A Holiday Photo


Remember Pula, in former Yugoslavia, thirty years ago,
I have picture of you in my blue shoebox, smiling look
Pretty, the people around you are incidental just locals
And other holidaymakers who don’t know they are forever
Caught by my camera, getting nowhere in my box.
The plane ride, back to Liverpool on that old aircraft that
Shuddered and had wings that moved as a seagull’s,
We were so glad we landed that, strangers spoke to each
Other till they came back to their senses and shut up.  
I know you must look different now, but what I recall is
Your smile since it, for a moment, hid the problems that
Made us part. Looking into the mirror I don’t think I have
Aged much, a grand illusion, of course, that make old age
Tolerable; I wonder if you when looking into the mirror
Think the same as I, or are you delusion free, if so I do
Feel sorry for your bitter reality.

Holland

In Holland this sweet clog walking land
have too many cows realising methane gas into the air.
There are many gas explosions in Holland
no one has yet to connect the gas with the cattle.
But it is difficult for them the have fewer cows.
Once I met Prince Hans of Netherlands, I drove his stuff up
to his farmhouse and he never paid me, and that is way
they are successful living in the middle of Europe and
somehow voiding paying tax.

Home from the cinema

We were going home from the movies
It began raining I had an umbrella and shielded
Her from most of the cloudburst, I got wet.

At her home, she said I had to take my suit off
I did but felt silly sitting on her sofa in my ******.

She came back from the bathroom wearing less than me,
We kissed and cuddled and ended up in her bedroom.

We made love after she fell asleep, I watched
Her serene face, she looked lovely.

I was tired too, but before falling asleep, I thought
I hope my suit will be dry in the morning

Home from the cinema

We were going home from the movies
It began raining I had an umbrella and shielded
Her from most of the cloudburst, I got wet.
At her home, she said I had to take my suit off
I did but felt silly sitting on her sofa in my ******.
She came back from the bathroom wearing less than me,
We kissed and cuddled and ended up in herb.
We made love after she fell asleep, I watched
Her serene face she looked lovely.
I was tired too, but before falling asleep I thought
hope my suit will be dry in the morning

Home from the sea

he is walking into the town,
new trousers and jacket
bought in America, shiny shoes.
He smiles to the girls who smile back
he has money
in his pocket home from the sea.
He has many friends
they come in the bar to say halo,
beer is flowing he pays
home from the sea flush of money.
Smells of expensive after-shave
bought in America.
He is walking into town,
his jacket is no longer new and shoes
not shiny
he is broke does not go to the bar.
It is a dull day.
He goes down to the office
that hires ******, ask if there is a job.
Not today, come back tomorrow.
The way back home is long and
rain falls.

Home invasion

IKEA, the Swedish furniture giant
Is invading your home
Wherever you go homes look the same
all in pine and is a blend of office
and living room
A mother has put her daughter to bed
she sits by a computer and works
(No men in the IKEA world)
No books clutter the space, bookshelves
are for ornamental use a place for toys.
on the wall some friendly print
purposely abstract and tedious
There is no individual taste in a picture
of hygge, a unipolar world, will we drive
a Tesla next?

Homeless
The rain falls gently making no splashes
The wind is absent today.
Safe indoors I look out and know many
Seek bus shelters, and they have no home.

Paris is an ugly city, expensive and *****
Their subways stink of unwashed people.

I think of the unseen whom we don’t see
Mainly because we don’t want to.
In our cosy dens, we should know this
The calamity of losing it all could happen to us.

Homeless
The rain falls gently making no splashes
The wind is absent today.
Safe indoors I look out and know many
Seek bus shelters, and they have no home.

Paris is an ugly city, expensive and *****
Their subways stink of unwashed people.

I think of the unseen whom we don’t see
Mainly because we don’t want to.
In our cosy dens, we should know this
The calamity of losing it all could happen to us.

Homeward Thoughts

When I see the white jet stream of an air carrier
high up on the blue sky that wholly cloud,
like a grazing flock of sheep
I think of the country up North, I left so many years ago
was I right leaving?
A question that remains unanswered.
A chasm of time has gone like the mist of Saragossa Sea,
mysterious and frightening.
A land that only exists in my mind,
should I go there, I would be in dreams I was young
and life had many promises.
That was before death ravaged us and took those I loved.
No, I think I will be in Portugal a little longer.

Hong Kong

Should you be in doubt
it is Chinese through and through
not a British colony
who reluctantly had to give it back?
They introduced democracy which as
false as the American kind,
China is not a democracy.
but they
have got rid of poverty and corruption is a hanging offence.
The students in Hong Kong have led
people astray, they need a good spanking,
dreaming of an independent nation was
criminals can hide like it should be Israel.
So, let us repeat Honk Kong is Chine.

Hong Kong, the Paradise

Did you know that in this enclave?
one out of five lives in stark poverty.
This place has the highest property
Prices in the wold.
The owner of such a flat has to
Subdivide the flat until it becomes
Tiny boxes to be able to pay rent.
Those who started this mayhem
Possibly get help from outside
Sources who know there is no win
Except for embarrassing China.
Demonstration without a clear goal
Is futile, the students are taken
For a ride and their democrat
Credentials a historical footnote.

A honied fairy tale

The grass in the clearing is deep green and sweet
foxes and rabbits play hide and seek, only stupid
rabbits get caught and devoured.
When twilight falls, there is no animosity each
goes back to their hole in the ground.
Woodrats with silky four have a love life the give
birth to saccharine babies that plays with boars.
For this is a fairy tale where little girls do not cry
by the sight of blood in the snow.
A story best told when sitting by the fire and
eating chestnuts.

Horizons

I sit on the verandah look at the sea no ships in today
open view until the horizon after that, on the other side
there are new limits
I have seen many horizons, some of them are blue or green
but have in common stopping me from seeing what is beyond
What if I met a horizon that had no new horizons?
A blank nothingness that has no dreams.
I look behind me and see an island before the fog sets
obscuring its coastline.
It is getting cold on the verandah, suddenly it becomes
the loneliest place on earth, breaking my spirit.
The island I saw on my endless quest is called Saragossa
I steer my ship there to meet friends long since departed
they will tell me what I need to know, the unsaid.

The horror of the night

I had rented a room in the town of Puerto Lemon
in wonderful Costa Rica.
I was going to have an affair with stewardesses
but since the crew came from one of the ******
gossiping little coastal towns in Norway,
we had to be discreet.
From the darkness of the night and into the light
in the room, flew a wonderful insect.
It was made of gold and the size of a cockroach,
the unsightly insect that once had been human
but had committed a grave sin and in his anger
God had turned them shuddering ugly creatures.
Out of the cracks in the floorboard burly ants came
attacked and ate the golden beauty.
It only took a few minutes then they disappeared
back to their hiding places.
I awoke the woman who was fast asleep,
we walked back to the ship, she first, I took longer.
Needed a drink at the nearest bar to overcome
the horror I had witnessed.

Horse Flesh
The mare in the yard is almost a pony it used to be
the falling horse in western movies.
She got old and Hollywood has no use for slow horses
It had performed in Lima Peru where the cowboy fell off
and I bought it on the roundabout
took it home and painted it yellow but as got older she
ended up in my garage,
together with my scooter and other useless toys.

Hospital workers

It has been another busy day a lot of driving
the destination is yet another hospital that smells of despair.
Busy fat auxiliary nurse, you can hear the friction of sweaty thighs
and the smell of their vaginas.
I’m not surprised the canteen sell mostly sweet cakes and drinks
and low paid, they have no other chances.
The doctors are mostly good at their trade, but some of them
would be happier as car mechanics, if it hadn´t been
for pushy mothers wanting a son with a title.
They are jolly, the nurses on a sugar high, I think.
I sit in the waiting room, the endless waiting for more tests.
My doctor is female, she talks to me softly, but there is steel
in her voice, telling me what to do and eat.
After a shouting match I lost, I gave her one of my books.
Mollified, she forgave my outburst. Yes, she is an angel.

Hot water crisis

Suddenly no hot water
We didn’t have hot water in my childhood
We had to boil water on a kettle
Pour it into a bowl, add cold water and wash
The vital parts.
It was when it was a communal bath, I discovered
Hot water in a shower and clean towels.
I wonderful moment.
Talking about water, there is not so much of it now
The summer lake near the houses is a hole covered with
Thistles and the river are a stony track.
Where I live now the water from the faucet is not potable
We have to buy it at the local shop, and it adds to
The household expensive.
I drink about two litres per day, and it cost more than cheap wine.
I refuse to drink the nasty, the residue of an empty, wine sold inboxes.
A cold glass of water in the morning is aa
Nectar, no one should be denied.

House ants


On the bare kitchen table a sugar lump,
suitable for a cup of
coffee it is looking like a gleaming rock of
marble on a large, bare upland plain
A few tiny scout ants had gathered around
the rock sending chemical signals
to their tribe and before long they came marching,
from all four corners of the kitchen,
an intense moving black mass
which collective goal was to get a holly lick,
then go home and tell about it.
A few tiny house ants frighten  no one,
but ten million do, so I the threw the sugar lump out
of the window,    
before they got the idea of turning on me.
They began marching back to their cracks
in the wall except for a few that settled
in a crack on the table,
not on I killed them with my thumb,
washed my hands with vinegar and
was absolved of my sin.

Houseguests

The two domestic lizards I thought had died in the winter
are back, and I leave them alone as they live on insects and
avoid my food; but why are they not breeding?
Could it be they are of the same *** and may God, forbid gay?
Not that I care as long as they do not make love on
the kitchen table or behind the potted plant I hate but my wife
Is proud of. This made me think of small isolated villages in
Portugal where young men had little choice but to marry
a relative, naturally there many idiots at those places.
Israel which pursues a race clean stat might come regret this policy of purity, it is already showing when their soldiers
shoot small children and think it is funny, a clear mark of advanced madness.
So gay or not I gladly share my house with two domestic lizards.

How did it come to this?
Sitting on a terrace counting how many
Ships are anchored in the bay.
I know most of the ships especially
The coastal runners, the big trawler has left an ugly ship
With a crew of the last chance saloon
No self-respecting seafarer would join a ship
That empties the ocean of life.
How did it come to this?
I am watching ships come and go in the bay of Cascais.
My plans for the future have been overtaken
By the veracity of the day

How far is far?

To travel on horse and cart from Algarve
To Lisbon took days, but there were Inns
For a traveller to rest and stable the horses.
Not that many trekked from Algarve
seen as a throwback
From the days of the Muslims and poverty.
It was the British ex. Colonials, in the dwindling
Empire, who settled here; the Algarve is now
famous as a tourist destination.
I drove around, before motorways, with my dog
Portugal is a beautiful country.
On the motorway, there is nothing to see
Except for the rush of destination,
And Portugal is smaller than it used to be.

How I became a sea-cook

I have been a high ranking officer in the foreign legion
I have also been a sea master and a captain-lieutenant
in the American air force, flying anything from helicopters
to transport planes and jet bombers
I was in Vietnam when my moment of glory came, when general
Westmoreland's helicopter got problem and had to land
in a clearing, in panic radio silence was broken and
the North Vietnamese army moved in, it was then my expertise
kicked in I knew the area used a small chopper and saved
Him and his next in command, the pilot, was left to fend
for himself- he made it to the Mekong river and was picked up.
Westmorland was an ill-tempered man complained he could
smell alcohol on my breath- how else to fight this stupid war.
They gave me a medal and kicked me out, but I was still
employed by the foreign legion who gave me medals too before
transferring me to secret service duty.
My job was to find soldiers of the legion who had absconded
and committed crimes while in uniform.
The order was clear, bring them back or silence them,
but I’m not suited for this work, so I quit and became a cook in
the merchant navy.

How it commenced

Some fish found it difficult to breaths
Underwater, they swam ashore and rested
Later they crawled to the garden of Eden
Where grew hands and feet

The post office is an oasis of harmony caused
By women staff who work slowly.

The fish now transformed into humans
Expelled the weakest link they got no hearing
Or discharged into the jungle of mangled words.
Those who lack intelligence suffer ignobly.

How it happens

In a cavern, a black rose. so rare it became
a religious symbol, no one could get near to see its beauty
but the guardian could not keep away the bold.
They found a black nylon sock given to a *****
by the salvation army, thrown away and forgotten.
The rose represented a powerful symbol, the tale of the *****
was rejected, the conspiracy theorist asked: why had the ***
thrown away one sock and not two?
Given a choice, we prefer beauty over truth and the black rose
became a place of worship, a place of pilgrimage,
hotels were built, and the restaurants opened, and the business was fine
until the day the virus came…

How it is so insane

There is a hardening of empathy in the blood vessels
of the Western world has peace lasted too long, if we
regard bloodletting as a natural cycle like the seasons
and now it is blue frost winter in the heart of man.
We have always been killing each other, the USA was
born by eradicating the local population and indeed
in Latin America, the conquistadors killed 90%
of its people and now we have Israel repeating
the long history of ******; not to forget the Rohingya
people escaping being slain by Buddhists in Myanmar.
Now we see a crescendo of mass eradication of plants
and animals, the very foundation of human life it is as
we are at war with self, committing suicide in our quest
to dominate others and thereby us.
There will be no place to hide whether we live in a castle
or in a cave when the world is red-hot bullet hurtling through space, and there will be no history to tell.

How long is long

We live in a society that
No longer believe in an afterlife
We, therefore, strive to live as long as possible
Even though, it might be detrimental
For our or others well- being.
What is the true age of man? I don't know but
I think when the memory is erased
When we become a burden, death is not an enemy.

How not to fall in love

A turntable by the slow river banks
Playing the banal music of the day
We were in love yet like in a dream
This was not real life
A bubble of illusion we loved each
Other deeply.
Towards morning it got chilly we
Walked home and parted with a kiss
That held no promise other than being
A kiss on tired lips.
The rivers up north freeze over in winter
We had left the turntable on the bank.
I remember it well it was long ago
The illusion had stopped working; I love you
Had lost meaning words uttered in cold air
So we parted then but I remember her well.

How old is old?
Was it a mistake or am I the clown in a serial TV drama,
an actor not needed for the plot but is kept on out habit,
poor sod can't remember his lines sitting with his pint in the corner.
One day he will be gone, and other actors will talk
about his kindness, The Guardian may show clips
when he had a leading role in a play 40 years ago.
So how long is a lifetime? I don't know, will not
know, but I would mind a by-line or two

http://imglogo.podbean.com/image-logo/716014/poweredbypodbean.jpg

Huldra

In a green valley near a blue lake
where pink salmon swam lived a Huldra.
She was beautiful as seen by human eyes
trolls found her ugly and rejected her.
I heard her desolate song
Saw her shimmering blond as Iberian
sea straw is made golden by the sun.
I saw her tail too.
Before spelling me, I sprinted away.
Folklore has made it clear.
Humans and trolls must not mix blood
because if they do mix, the offspring
will be rejected by both groups
and for perpetuity be lost
walking the strand of loneliness.

(Huldra, female troll in Nordic Mythology)

Human Maggots  

If ******* *****
From millions of seafarers
Over hundred years
Think if this floating loneliness
Had met up and formed
An Island
And up from its depth sprung
The unborn like larvae
Whose only contact
With mothers were what
The ******
Was dreaming of at the time
Not Atlantis re- emerging
But an island born out of tedium
And tired desire
Not on a chart
To find its existence
So be careful when dreaming.

Every Day Philosophy

I'm not a thinker deep as the ocean more
like the depth of a puddle, but then again
seen from the stratosphere an ocean is
nothing more than a shallow puddle it has
to do with perspective
The tiny ant that walks across my desk is big
compared with gnat they are mostly obscure
except when they walk across the computer
screen and leave behind a minuscule bit of ****
And that was the lesson for today

Humour?
Where were you when I was arrested at a public toilet for drinking
of a flask of brandy- the man beside me was a police officer out
to catch people like me who needed a drink to survive the tedium of
living in a provincial town in the middle of a landscape of cows

Where were you during the court case when the judge said I was
a disgrace, a plague on the backside of humanity drinking in public
Is a serious crime, the buffoon thundered threw the gavel at me
it hit a guard in the head he who was knocked out

Where were you when I had to run gauntlet of jeering reports
and people pointed me out in the street and a hush when
I entered a café, and the waitress refused to serve me coffee
you went to holiday in Spain drinking red wine.

Hunger and horses

Spring 1945
A horse collapsed
In the street
Of hunger.
Skinny men in black
From doorways came.
Long knives
Tore into
Shivering flesh.
Hyenas.
A shot fired
The horse was dead
The hyenas
Would return.
An officer
Who loved horses
Released
The animal
From suffering.

Hyenas
Hyenas are untameable they are the Bannon of the evolution
plotting their own course on how to sow destruction and enjoy
the consequences. If you are a fisherman and throw a hand grenade
into the  sea, you get plenty dead fish, but  fishermen who follow
rules will hate him for it; the world belongs to the one that kills
the most but you end up eating the mutilated and waste.

In Africa, I suspect Ethiopia; a village accepted a group of hyenas living
near them a working relation the animals come into the village at night
and eat the leftovers in the roads, job done they go back and rest in
the tall grass outside the village, one can say man and beast practice
toleration, why can't we do the so instead of threatening other nations
nuclear hell that will also, in the long run, **** them.

I, a love story in D minor

I had loved you before you were born
I knew you were in the unknown waiting to innate
I adored when you were a child a gift of love
I looked after you in the awkward teenager years
I saw you one day before I stood the woman
I hallucinated, the perfection of my dream
I declared my love for you, and you said: don't be silly Don
I saw you getting married and I cried in the night
I hope you will put red roses on my grave
I love the colour of love

Icarus

I have been so fascinated by Icarus my dream was to fly closer to
the sun than man or god dared.
I had the good fortune of meeting a mad scientist at a wine tasting
contest, where our capacity for the wine was appreciated.
He had a type of wax that could withstand intense heat.
I did not hesitate to order a pair of wings.
I flew higher than any god had done before, but the heat
was so intense the wax began to melt.
Like a rocket, I dived back to earth hoping to meet water.
Splashed down into the Barents ocean.
My body, now covered in wax kept me afloat and tolerably warm
till some Russian fishermen picked me up.
They kept me warm and snug till I sat there in my boiler suit
gave me a warm coat taking me into Vladivostok if I remember rightly.
Pravda, the Russian newspaper, got hold of my exploit and printed
my story on the first page, but who reads Pravda?
The local TV also interviewed me, but who looks at Russian TV?
I´m a hero in Russia but ignored by the rest of the world,
this happens when politics get in the way of a heroic deed.

Identity

    What does it mean to be human?
   What is identity a word used to classify ourselves,
   Setting us apart from other animals, and why
   Have we been given intelligence to destroy?
   The planet, and consciousness to do good when
  The instinct is to terminate what is a bother
  To our wellbeing.
  Is a multi-ethnic approach useful for the identity?
  We tend to gravitate towards the tribe we know
  With people, we feel a kinship.
  Is religion good for us?
  but we invented it together
  With the massacre of those who do not believe like us.
What is morality, not ****** morality which is
An instinct procreates but often sinks to bare lust.
A dog knows it is not human but does it know
Is it a dog, do we know we are humans?

Identity

What a strange word
It exists for those with longings
for the mystical past.

The world has many cultures
it is easy to get lost
in the wilderness called identity

without, one is a cloud in the sky
varies according to the weather.
Wouldn't that be wonderful
to belong to no one but oneself.

Idle Hands
I’m looking at a screen with blue edges,
The screen is not so white it has millions
dots of black hidden I the vast whiteness
I try to write down words or two,
let them fly and find their own way, but there
is nothingness that has a past or future
Before when writing in the night I had a beer
or two to help push me forward, draw
and Idea out of me, now unkind stillness.
I get up can’t sit here wasting my time
I try to read a book it is usually an overlong mess
written on a word processor fit for a secretary.
Poetry too is self-indulgent and some are full of words
so rare as written by on academic to another,
Do not let the people in. Anyway I have retired from
poetry and the tyranny of show, do not tell
I'm free as the none appearing bird on the screen-

Idle Thoughts


When I write of a rose should
I add the adjective beautiful
I have never seen an ugly rose. Therefore, all roses are stunning
But we can argue about whether we like red or white ones.
When I kissed her tender lips was
It since she had kissed a lot before?
I held around her waist tenderly- a new adjective- and she gazed
At me likewise well I'm not a Russian given to bear hugs.
Her ***** was like a fairy- tale
I ask you, not a moist ulcer then.
Fairy tales is about *** starved princess's with long hair in a tower
A prisoner of her father's idea of chastity and no knitting needle  
The curvature of her lower back
Struts out like ski-jump in the Alps
Petals falls of roses one by one and blinded by irrational by love
We see again after an operation cataract and daylight seeps in.
The road surface too potholed
No one asphalts my road anymore.

So many IFS
If the world had been more caring
If we had been less selfish
If the world had been at peace
If Palestine had been free
If Israel had not adapted the **** regime
If we had shown more respect
If hatred had been less
If we had more passion for what’s right
If, by law, we could stop wars.
If nature had been taken care of
There might be a chance for those
Coming after us.