Classic Poem

They ask 'where is the love? '
But they still do drugs,
It doesn't make it right
Bombing for peace,
Is like eating for diet,
It doesn't stop the fight.
Steps on a land mine,
Like a nursery rhyme,
a thousand men start to fall.
A year in a hostile place,
The whole entire human race,
they hear their faces start to call.
Ring out from a bruised postcard
In the shooting yard,
Looking through the tears.
Out of a black slate time,
They move in line,
And once face their fears.
Sons and daughters,
Gather round,
Ashes to ashes, ground to ground.
Your fathers walking,
In a giant grave,
he's not making a sound.
And if you think
That the worlds been losing it's way
That's because it's slightly blinded
And if you think
That it doesn't make sense
That's because they're broken minded.