The Gnat

The constant nagging of that gnat
That flits atop my pillowcase
Is keeping me awake-it wont stop.

The schoolboy puts on his hat-
And then his war paint – and gun-and game face
Knowing that he could kill any cop.

That American girl who hates to eat feels so fat
When looking at the dry and dusty place
Where the bony disease ridden children just seem to drop.

The fifteen year-old mother looks at her infants sleeping mat
To see the reason for her disgrace-
The sickness is too much, her head spinning like a top.

The child puts down his toys and stirs the vat-
Its brew blinds him as if sprayed with vile mace-
Its contents spread over his village’s crop.

These constant naggings like a gnat
They flit across our minds and then quickly erase-
They are keeping me awake-I wish they’d stop.





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