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The Word Bomb...

The Word Bomb…

I want to build a bomb,
really build it well.
I want to make it large,
then climb inside it’s shell.
Make it safe for other creatures,
clever enough to blow us all to hell.
I’m ashamed to say I’m human,
on this planet that we dwell.

It mustn’t harm the children,
for they have yet to live.
Without the greedy adults,
maybe they’ll learn to give.
Perhaps the new beginning
will teach them a better way.
that even the tiniest creature,
has a right to have his day.

Believing I’m a very simple man,
my sacrifice wouldn’t mean a lot.
But if I could rid the world of evil,
this would be a worthwhile shot.
Perhaps I would leave the women,
who in large are peaceful and good.
Stripping then of moneyed worries,
will help them live the way they should.

See wealth is the root of all evil,
man gives it a place on a throne.
We strip other’s lands of purist ore,
anything deemed worthless we disown.
We charge through their countries
stealing from them their worth.
Using them to murder their own,
saying we know best on this here Earth.

But if I make an explosion,
it will only be with words.
Me making a bomb to harm others,
Is strictly for the birds.
I mean what I said about humans,
we are a despicable bunch.
Allowing those with wealth to rule,
only in their currency are we staunch.

See we only defend our kind of world,
invading others to defend our wealth.
We invent the most gruesome weapons,
even murdering children with complete stealth.
So if I upset your selfish inertial thoughts,
then what I’ve written can be deemed a success.
Because unfortunately in this world today,
we need more than a bloody word bomb,
to sort our horrific mess.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Last few words: 
After what happened in Woolwich, i fear the world may never change.....
Editing stage: 

Comments

It speaks to me. It really does!!
I would suggest considering smoothing the rhythm for an easier read.
Thanks for sharing.
the first two stanzas tell me all.

❤❤❤❤❤❤

Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words
........Robert Frost☺

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Thank you Rula, i'm glad you enjoyed this poem. I tend to let rip and put to print what i'm thinking, but i'm planning to work on a few of my poems. I just seem to be out of time. Thanks again. Love Roscoe...

Roscoe Llane,

Religion will rip your faith off, and return
for the mask of disbelief that's left.

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