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Image for the poem The Puppeteers

The Puppeteers' Play

 
They share the world as if it was their own
Carving borders into flesh and stone
A puppet-show with power strings
While we dance to the songs their greed still sings
 
Bomb Iraq; and we’ll pay you with gold
Arms in their hands; but the truth stays cold
Blood spills cheap when the market’s right
And war is just business wrapped up tight
 
Israel rains fire; Gaza is dust
Children in graves; their names lost to rust
Peace is a myth; when profits are high
When nations decide who should live or die
 
The U.S. cleanses; yet claims to defend
Wiping out cultures it swore to befriend
"Democracy’s coming;" they say with a grin
While bodies pile up and wars never end
 
Move Gazans to Jordan while they close their own border;
Claim it's for peace; but the lies only grow bolder
Tanks roll in... while they weep on the sand
A homeland erased by a merciless hand
 
Condemn the oppressed; let the strong run free
Justice bends where the rich hold the key
The world turns away; pretending not to see
As history repeats in hypocrisy
 
Europe still acts like Africa’s land
Draining its veins with a colonial hand
They take the diamonds; the gold... the oil
Then call us savages lost in turmoil
 
The UN speaks; but its hands are tied
A lapdog wagging by the West’s side
Condemn the weak; let the strong go free
Justice depends on the powers that be
 
And Africa.... oh Africa; blind and bound
By leaders who sell their own for a crown
They bow to the West; they trade their kin
As long as their pockets are full within
 
Brothers at war; sisters in pain
Divided by greed; yet we’re all the same
No love within; no unity found
Just fighting for scraps on bloodied ground
 
Muslims labeled as terror’s face
A billion souls reduced to disgrace
A single man sins; the whole faith is blamed
But when others do worse; they’re never named
 
Fear is currency; power the game
Divide by color; then set it to flame
Black or white; it’s always been
A sin to lose; a crime to win
 
Haemophobia; don’t let the weak survive
If they bleed too much; they’re cast aside
No care for the sick; no love for the poor
Just numbers rising in death’s own store
 
They speak of peace with sharpened knives
They shake your hand; then steal your life
A world on fire; yet they pour the fuel
And laugh while we fight like mindless fools
 
History repeats; the cycle spins
The puppets change; but the play begins
They share the world; they take... they own
And leave us lost; blind and alone.
Written by Wordsmith (Moshood Abdullateef)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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