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Mongi Jan 2018
It's a New World

Cars fly in the atmosphere
Like kites being flown by carefree kids
Homes crumble down to shreds
Like mud castles being hit by the rain
Life gets washed away into the seas
Like soft sand grains from the sea shore

Earnest elite men and women in white coats
Will name as tornado, tsunami, earthquakes
Scary names they are
Imaging dragons and Dracula
But it is a natural disaster
It is the universe's fault
That no man can be blamed for

Some people live with their loses
Find solace in the life they at least have left
Though, sadly, most never do
They wish they were never spared
For they are nothing with the nothingness spared

It's a new world
Now welcome the insensible fault of nature
Pssshhh! A silver vessel flies to the North
Zssshhh! A furious retaliative one trajects
Bzshhhh! They both hit on either sides
And the rest becomes history

Secure in their protected fortresses
Safe in company of their families
Content with their actions
Two men from either sides
Too full of their selfish and narcissistic egos
And yet voted by the perishing masses into power

They watch their doings
From their fancy televisions
Like it were an ugly action movie scene
Or a space Sci-fi video game
While everything burns down
And life turns to death
Toils taken to graves

Children screaming
Parents crying
Dreams shattering
Blood spilling
Sirens wailing
Doctors yelling
Pulses feebling
Breaths fading

It is selfish world
Where survival is only for the egocentric
And the innocent civilians live every day
In fear it were their last
As the media discuss the looming of a war
Now tyrants are bigger than their voters
And men's suits are too expensive
To sit down for negotiations
Rulers' hands too sterile to shake in peace
But their autocratic mouths so easy
At declaring and perpetrating war
Oh, how presidential!

Mongi C. Nkabindze
We read from newspapers about a possible looming war between two great  countries. I haven't done my research, but I just had these thoughts rushing through my mind. So I penned them down, in no careful manner
Sumit Ganguly Mar 2017
A child's mind is an artist's easel,
catchy scenes and characters
make art gallery exhibits,
connoisseurs and critics wonder.

In time, colors fade.
forms of drawing remain,
child crosses the road with easel on breast,
real and surreal co-exist.

Parent, adult and child play in our psyche,
when child loses heart in enjoyment
parent frowns
and the adult acts as conscience..

9th March 2017
JDK Oct 2015
When two cents become worth more than a dime,
is it a crime to only shell out a nickel?
We're still making some kind of profit.
I hope you don't think I'm just being fickle.
Francie Lynch Aug 2015
I'm wondering
What went wrong;
HP's becoming
An animal farm.
None are more equal than others. Live in peace.
A bird sings joyfully
in the tranquillity of a moment
as the sun rises
without pretences or affectation
over canned compliments
anguish, alienation
scrambled egos and lonely words.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2014
Fraud identities—
Hack poets praising themselves,
  .  .  .  Wait for accolades.

— The End —