I saw a Marine on my TV screen
On his knees, begging please
Release me, release me.
I saw men, shackled and cuffed, shuffle
In pain chained to the taint of their skin.
On their knees, they begged please,
Release me, release me.
I saw the ninety-nine percent torn from tents.
Maced in the face, teary-eyed for asking why
They were kicked to their knees and told to beg please,
Release me, release me.
Bradley, an apache; Assange, a messenger.
Hillary’s husband lied under oath.
Where is the hope?
The truth is proof that justice is a hoax.
I heard when Monica was on her knees Bill begged please,
Release me, release me.
I watch my son run in the wind and sun,
Under the African sky.
He is too young to know what is going on;
That we are all prisoners of a war we do not want.
The only way I can look him in the eye
Is to go down on my knees, and beg please,
Do not hate me.
Scribbla 
wonderful.. i always enjoy all your writings.. 😀
Wow! So bleak and beautiful. Something about the structure made it very easy to fly through. Some parts clicked together like song lyrics, almost.
=)
i relate to so much in that poem. i’m bothered by the wars, the killings, homelessness, hunger, sex-trafficking, drugs, .. all those things …………… it’s a long ugly list of things I despair over. my son – his beauty, his oblivious blissfulness – added a whole new dimension to what pains me. i love him so so much. and how am i ever going to explain?!
i have this hope – i guess i hope that my love for him can make the world a better place for him, can provide him with the strength to be happy, to find beauty, to love all that’s loveable (and there is so much!). Love rules. Love makes this world a better place.
You have it in abundance. He’ll be fine.
Hi Scribbla,
Thanks for stopping by my blog and liking my most recent post. You’ve been in a dark mood with your very sparse posts over the past 4 months. Obviously you don’t need to share personal details in public, but you’re leaving a lot to our imaginations. Are you doing that on purpose?
It would be nice, when you feel up to it, to read something in your own voice about what happened during your absence (I was thinking it’s something more than – ‘I didn’t feel up to posting’) and give us, your regular readers, a chance to re-engage with you – the human being – not just the writer.
Just a thought,
Carol
P.S. You’re welcome to comment at my blog anytime, of course.
P.P.S. Hope you are well.
Powerful! Wow!
this is intensely sorrowful.
you remain a master of weaving such images…