The Greed of War

The Greed of War.


The thirsty land,

sand stretched miles,

money grubbing tree

roots searching

for precious drops of



Tiny creatures

scuttle across

the shifting dunes

of forgotten dreams


Once it was green,

fertile, juice filled,

quenching, slaking

til abundance

became bound to a few.


Poverty steals the very

sips of sustenance

that are the

building blocks of bodies.

Changes to dustiness

humanity’s dignity.


Gun wielding, drone flying wealth

burn the last hopes of a fleeing people

as bonds are bound by innocent deaths

and the greed of war.




Hilary Evans



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margins are a great place sometimes because it is where change happens fastest but it is also a horrible place when we are stuck in them and grace is the moment when we can see that someone cares.

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