A human tragedy

Old men die
Young men are killed
Often in fights
Children are run over
By cars driven
By maniacs plotting in
The middle of the night.

Old men read
Often in stately homes
In appearance calm
But what about the memories?
Do they long for
The night they plotted for
Their future
Or fear the horrors they caused?

Young men fearless
Their time is now and
Tomorrow of old age is
Unlikely time to come
For some is true
For others a surprise is
In store.

But children
O children for
They can’t wait to
Be adults of age
When they can do
When they can stay up all night
And plot their future
For love
For riches
For wants
For independence from
Their parents control and
The state school
For freedom to pursue
Their dreams that
They are still to know
But only if they know
Still spring requires its blossoms
Short lived flowers.

Old men die
Young men are killed
Children become a tragedy of
Young men and women
Unless mowed down by
A maniac adult denying them
The dream of adulthood.

Old men die reading the tragedy.

March 23, 2017

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About alaindesade

Novelist, songwriter and philosopher. Has special interest in human relations, evolution of mind, inter-cultural complications, and the concept of God.
This entry was posted in Current events, Disappointment, International, Philosophy, poem, poetry, reflections and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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