Our Choice

February 7, 2009
As soft breezes flow through the trees.
I know the world is at peace.
But as the bombs go off on me.
The devil has anger to release.

As time passes by.
Destruction is all around.
Where beautiful trees once lied.
Are now just holes in the ground.

Instead of joining and having a hand to lend.
We choose to fight and shake.
When will this world come to an end?
That might be our choice to make.

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