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Andrea Catchpole Poem
From this Earth we raise high our heads and stare,
For miles our sight is filled with grace and joys.
We hold this life so full of worth, with care;
Then trust our world to men with big boys toys.
With guns and bombs they wreak their Hell of Death,
They kill and maim with one thought for their God
(Of whom there is no sign, no glimpse, no breath)
Just blood and tears and guts laid on the sod.
And..when they stoop no more to rape the maids,
they rape the land with mines and fire, in greed
for wealth..yet they are poor and hope now fades.
Our Earth clings to its roots, it weeps and bleeds.
Make light of life while time gives space to heal,
to plant new seeds, a new World's hopes to seal.
Copyright © Andrea Catchpole | Year Posted 2019
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Details |
Andrea Catchpole Poem
There is no certainty in life,
'cept we shall die;
And no gods nor entities can take the blame for 'I'.
I take no comfort from, nor suffer battles to protect
those in whom I do not believe exist.
In the stead, I endeavour, endure and Jest, and I do not reject
(as they request) the beliefs of others.
It is their right, as Ours, to go into the quiet Night.
Ours; Mine ...with no requests and
No Need To Fight.
Copyright © Andrea Catchpole | Year Posted 2019
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