A Funny Old World

(A poem from Letters to Editor dated 13 March 2005 in Khaleej Times.
Don't know this man but is quite sure he is a helluva man.
With him I gladly stand)

It’s a funny old world that we live in
Where its children keep sitting in the dirt
And the flies from the skies
Drink the tears in their eyes
The tears of their hunger and hurt

It’s a funny old world that we live in
When relief sent in thousands of tonnes
Goes in dribbles to those
Near to death’s last repose
And the rest to the men with the guns

It’s a funny old world that we live in
When the most powerful nations by far
Send men to the moon
Yet can’t fill the spoons
That will keep those in need where they are

So, how to resolve the position?
What cure can our leaders all seek?
One thing’s for sure
They’d soon find a cure
If they went without food for a week

Nothing to eat for a fortnight
A cup of stale water a day
If they went without food
Without being rude
They’d bloody well soon find a way

But it’s not only down to our leaders
It’s no use just making a fuss,
Their hands they may wring
But they won’t do a thing
Unless they are made to, by us.

— Jack Broom, Enfield, Middlesex, UK