I barged in and faked a smile
I could have bet on a little dime
That I was promised, I was cherished
But all I ended up being was
Perished.

You let me down and dug the ground
Built a grave and made no sound
Smirked at me like a filthy hound
Can you blame me now
For wanting him to drown?

And so I did the same
Dug the ground underneath his
Pool of shame.
The water so comforting
Against him seems to be plotting.

Look at me and don't lie
I wanted you to die
And you did the same and I bet
That you're still caught in the same net.

Children of Gaza
Still
With trembling hands
Eating dry bread  
Without looking at anyone's face
Eyes lowered
Heads down
Lowered the noise.

Occasionally
Don't look at the sky
Will try to face up
Whole body
Trembling
sweat
the end
Close the eyes.

It fell right next to it and broke
Bomb, Grenade, Missile
The ringing in their ears
It was abandoned that day

in faces
wounds
Not yet dry
Still
They are
Haven't slept yet
In bunkers and shelters
For nights and days
is increasing.

Hugging each other
Crying babies
Anywhere on the streets  
See you

My wife hears the **** man outside spraying  the lawn.
The next day it’s the pest control guy doing the foundation.

He doesn’t come into the house to spray each room anymore.  Just doing the outside is enough to keep the bugs away,
says the pamphlet he leaves at the top of the steps.

My wife comes from the grocery store
and  immediately complains about the smell.

She gives me the long receipt for the thirteen bags
of freshly ground and harvested death
that will feeds us for the next few weeks.

I look it over, go into my office, shut the door.
I file it away. Next, I pay the quarterly bills for
                  those who do my killing.

Bang! I surely heard the graze of conflicting thoughts;
setting a battleground across their minds.
Every word was in a blaring tone, as every
negative word the world spoke of it; was its
quick and merciless first fire.

Bang! Shooting down the innocence of
young, innocence that was held an infant—
still it hadn’t stopped man from killing them
in an instant. A snap of  a camera, of every violent
act played on the news, following every instance.

BANG! The gun grew louder to the crime that was
deemed by fighting for resistance. And how so will we
ever find peace in a world, if all our actions leave it
in so many broken pieces?

the wild west's still with us
it isn't gone at all
8 shot inside a high school
11 at the mall

Tombstone is no longer
Dodge City, it's now dust
But, the wild west's still with us
Believe me...in disgust

They no longer use revolvers
And have show downs in the streets
They've moved it to the school room
Where children hide beneath their seats

The press are there like vultures
The NRA cries foul
11 dead inside the mosque
But people wail and howl

They've the right to carry guns
You can't take that away
So, when you explain that to their folks
Just what do you say?

The wild west's still with us
It's a fact, that's true
It's not the same as it once was
This wild west is new

Shootings in the workplace
Shootings at the schools
Shooting in the churches
Are there any rules?

Each night the news is showing
A new shooting, it won't stop
The shooter dies a victim
And it's always death by cop

The wild west's still with us
It isn't gone at all
7 dead inside the church
11 at the mall

Eventful War Part 2
It is simply ongoing
The war as you all call it
Continues and will never end
For those who control the world
And all of us are pulling the strings
To make more cash and power
From the war acts which don't stop
A new year a new war in a new place
Or an old place dusting off an old war
It's doesn't matter why who how when
What matters is power and a bit of cash
They lust for power have it all want more
Many will die nations will be wrecked
Weapons used in anger or for fun
You name it they'll use it and do it
Conflict is the normal for them
There is no profit in peace
The Eventful War Part 2 continues
Part 1 never actually stopped…

Coloured Putin
Shoot her full of rainbows
Scythes from heaven
Souls down in Hell
Hundred thousand dead
Mamushka I miss you
Our Leader sent us there
Not an Odessa holiday
Opposite of that mama
Forgive them all
It's Putin's orders
Hundred thou casualties
Bullet ridden rainbows
Her essence is black

Writhing, wroth and seething anger.
From this fool arose the urge to strangle.
Fiery hatred burns forth like the breath of a dragon.
An all consuming wrath that overflows the flagon.
From this worthless, living man lies the issue.
As I choke the very life from his dying brain tissue.
From this mental fantasy I finally awake.
Taking a life - Ah! what a piece of cake!