I believe in goodness
I believe in beauty
I believe in happiness
I believe it to be
In all people
Dark hands
Seek the pasty white face of our hope
Cultivating fear and loss and greed
These hands are impudent, coarse
Having in them death’s venom
They wait for nothing
A garrote upon day’s shadowy war
I am tired of the child’s howl
I am tired of the mother’s tear
Tired of the father’s motionless yowl
I’m sickened by these horrid truths
Tired of the mistreated seas
Tired of the seething wave
Of trembling earth and air
I’m tired of our white treachery
mrp
