The World

The latent virus of the Cold War never went away

It came back to us, full of new features

The world now

Divided between the rich, affluent or just crooked

While big men with guns standing on their guard ready to kill

Or at least harm while preparing another massacre in a tiny village

The battle for the control of resources has just started again

Plans are being made, the control so important, still such a

Great illusion being extended to every corner of human existence

New types of weapons being created more efficient

In killing is being put up, to win you need to create chaos

A great ladder for climbing while we are falling

Avoiding to prepare until the very last moment

Conman

Winter mornings

Are dark matters

We suffer, we the Slow moving creatures

Of this Earth

I’m just an ordinary conman

Doing my deeds

And sometimes getting paid for them

When we are gone we are forgotten

we the insects of mankind

That you need but always denies

Family

The small world

Is a violent place

A way to destroy

Yourself and your feeling

With the help of your

Family members

That say they love you

By beating you to death

And then blaming you

For the consequence

I cannot change

The weather

I cannot change

The world

I cannot change

Your way of  being

I cannot even

Change myself

In a significant way

So how am I going

To change the life

Of all the Pandas in

The world?