The Monster

This world that we live in
is of our own making.
The good and the bad,
belong to us all.

I look at the news
and see myself
in the faces of the dying
or the boardrooms of the wealthy.

It is me who won the lottery,
it is me with nothing to eat.
Me who dies on the battlefield.
Me who strikes it rich.

Am I responsible for
the fate of the world?
Will it be me,
who brings it down?

Or will things get better
with understanding and love?
Will my mind be the catalyst,
or will it be yours?

Those who know, do not tell.
Those who can see are blind.
If you can speak, you are muted.
If you can walk, you are lame.

While armies march to war,
and children cry in vain,
The monster reaps it’s vengeance,
for having been created at all.

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