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

© supratik 2021
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critique and comments welcome.
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Dodgem

I particularly appreciated the last two

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