Tell Me Why.
I'm in sitting on this peachy red bench, while the wind is whistling to my ear.
by Linda ErikssonBique
I can hear children crying, bullets being shot, Is this all there's to hear?
Why is it that all we do is just fight.
Doesn't anyone know what's wrong and what's right?
Why do mothers leave their infants in carbide cans?
Why are our troops fighting in Iraq?
Why do husbands rape their wives?
Why do kids walk to school, and carry knives?
Why do we see children homeless on the streets?
Why do we kill animals for meat?
Why doesn't anyone want to answer our pleads?
Why doesn't anyone help out with open arms?
Why do people rather hit, than hug?
Why do we want war, instead of peace?
Won't someone hear my cry out?
Won't someone come and tell me an answer before I shout.
This is NOT right.
I want my children to live in an better nation, when I know they can sleep at night.