Cleaning Up

What a riot
This thing we call
The thing to do
In case we all
Have little use
For me, for you

What a shock
To wake to find
So many gone
And left behind
Repeated hate
In cycles time
Again, again
In life unkind

There is no peace
To some this world
Has offered none
But smell of blood
A cursed group
On rampage run

What a crime
And lust for it
In all our time
Who pays for it
Who will say
I'm sorry to
Will it matter?
For me, for you