Call me a fool,
A wretched idealist;
A liberal tool,
An utter unrealist.
Your labels fall short;
Your arrows won’t pierce.
Why must we distort
Compassion so fierce?
When did we cease
Believing we could
Be a power for Peace,
Doing all that we should?
When did progress become
Our enemy’s name,
Abandoning some
Just to keep things the same?
I pray we will turn
And pursue a new road.
I pray we will learn,
That our wounds may be sewed.
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