My Poetry. What hope do they have?


A Desolate land with hardly any hope

Parents with children stressing to cope.

Uncertain times in uncertain days

Hoping that something will help in their ways.

What do they do? Where do they go?

Every little turn and feeling low.

Men with guns who will be next

No time to breathe let alone text.

The airport is shut, when can we go?

Civilians all huddled run to and fro.

Bombs going off, people are killed

Limbs are detached streets blood-filled.

A people of hardship, fear, no hope

Waiting for Governments to tighten the rope

Families in terror locked indoors

Lying in dark rooms sleeping on floors

Dreading the tap or knock on doors

Dare not answer for fear they will die

For helping Governments, becoming a spy.

The World is in disaster

When catastrophe is the norm

When will it end? 

No matter what Government they form?

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