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Poem

Time is a commodity we are running short on, 
We are living in the most complex era ever known.
With enough arsenal to annihilate every living creature on the planet,
And we sit back and take every day for granted.

One unstable person, a computer glitch could be the catalyst,
Then there would be no one left to protest or shake a fist.
What if you did survive, what would be the quality of life?
Radiation, contamination, would be part of your everyday strife.

The games of war can no longer be called games, but should be named what they are,
And that is the final apocalyptic curtain, because we have not learned a damn thing thus far.
All rationality seems to have vanished and no one is prepared to accept the blame,
Like I said the stakes have become too high to call what we do a game.

Television and movies paint a picture of gore but make it appealing,
The news shows us just what they want us to see, usually with the truth left out cause
that would be too revealing.
There is a chance that I am wrong, but there is a better chance I am right,
What I’d like to see is the ones who start these things, put them on the front line and
see if they still want to fight.

Mankind will always find something to bicker about,
All it takes is some ones feelings to be hurt and they sulk and pout.
What I say to them is grow up, quit sucking on your thumb.
Show a little maturity and stop acting so dumb.

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