*** for tat only means that another generation seeks vengeance and war
Evening the score only means yet another must even the score
Just ask the palestinians and the israelis, just ask the tutsis and the hutus
Ask the protestants and the catholics, and the crips and the bloods
The hatfields and mccoys, too, were all about grudge
And what has it gotten us, where does it end?
Who is the enemy and who the friend?
I ask this because it seems clear to me
“Either you’re with us or against us” denies diversity
One man’s terrorist is another man’s hero
But you **** mine, I **** yours leaves a net gain of zero
And what about the children in whose faces war is fought?
What parentless future — or present — have they got?
And who stands to gain from perpetuating violence?
Who profits from the pain ... ... and the deafening silence?
Typically a handful of white men do, that’s who
It’s that top one percent, not you
A few families control the likes of halliburton, bechtel and g.e.
It’s their balance sheets that gain from the misery we see
Divide and conquer is their modus operandi, their mode of operation today,
Keep us fighting amongst ourselves and all blame ... is diverted away.

She's there on the corner this morning, as she is every morning.
A bundle of newspapers in her arms.
Her bundle of joy swaddled snugly on her back.
Her face time-worn, flush with the creases of a life insecure.
Her clothing time-tested, warm in the cold, cool in the heat.
Seemingly devoid of emotion, her face now and then reveals an inner light
– an inner light that flickers with the sale of a paper,
then comes to full beam with the coo of her son.
She probably doesn't — or can't — read the product she pushes
it serves merely to feed the mouths that call to her for sustenance.
Reports of pestilence, the day's corruptions and the growing war dead
are forgotten amidst the smiling innocence of her hijo.
Her son may never know material wealth, or even a life of plenty
but he'll know the love of his mother.
He may never ride in the fancy cars to which she caters, or vacation at Disneyland
but he'll understand the value of family.
One day, limbs that now flail aimlessly upon his mother's back will toil for her.
One day, his strong hands will do the heavy work so that his mother won't have to.
Perhaps, his efforts will keep her from perching her aging body on some unforgiving sidewalk,
at the feet of passersby, hand outstretched for pesos.
If he too can only avoid the pestilence, the corruptions and war that fill the front pages of the daily news.