no answer (some small poems)
why was the world created,
aimless, weak logic,
but it was created, like
a miserable magic
…
we know killing is bad,
revolvers, pistols, guns
in the hands of children
of all ages; wealth created
by manufacturing such
toys, playful instruments,
films that market killing,
deceit, treachery, violence
gain on visibility
…
good and bad,
my mom must have
taught me to gang-rape
a woman, the skill
to kill, and steal,
she must have taught me
to open fire here and there
…
flocks of sheep,
coward, herding together,
gaining strength, creating
a ruckus in the world
…
the world, the only abode
we want to destroy through
thoughts, words, and actions
…
the rich becoming richer
the poor poorer,
explanations, written down,
remedies, written off
I particularly appreciated the last two
Thank you. I can understand.