Colin F. Jones


God show me the work thou hast done?
Why are the starving children not having fun?
Why do we live only to brandish the gun?
And celebrate battles our soldiers have won.
Why have you mixed the language we speak?
Why are there dictators and tricksters and hate?
Why did you make us so greedy and weak,
Serving for gain the Church and the State?
Why are you so silent, invisible and cruel?
Knowing death is our eventual fate,
Why is mystery used as a blackmailing tool?
Is it to stifle the truth in debate?
Yes I’m a simple and vulnerable man,
But to believe you exist makes me also a fool.