May

DETONATE THEIR PIECES

In anguish, we watch the weary grow weaker
We act concerned, but stay aloof
Frightened that our help may bring hell
Or that their curse may stain us
These children of humanity walk our roads
Seeking shelter and relief from the rain
The one that denies us harvest
Clearing off all the farm yield and grain
But shall nonchalance forever grace our faces
While we detonate their pieces
As if they are bombs without need of mercy
Or wanton frames hiding from survival.