Millions killed in two world wars,
millions more killed by cars.
Homeless, houseless, ragged clothed, illiterate, unfed.
Better off dead?
Who cares about the numbers, do you?
Me too. What can you do?
Why call these numbers sadistic?
Are you just a statistic?
Oh no, you’re not, nor I.
Numbers do not lie.
Maybe someday someone will say stop.
Then we will go from the bottom to the top.
Atop the hill is a lovely view.
Waiting for you.
It does not do much good to cry.
A poem could go on forever.
Sometime is better than never.
Or hardly ever.
I said this, does it matter?
I hope so.
20th June, 2016