Rubble of our existance

My mighty nation is shattered,
Like the windows of my home.

My family can't sleep for the agony in the streets.
I can hear the guns reverberating in the chasms of my head,
The childhood memories I can never leave behind.

My father went to buy some spirits to ease the pain.
He never returned.

The tanks roll by at three, they can't wake the restless.
Nor can they release the talons of war from my homeland.
My son rubs his eyes, to contain the fear.

When morning comes, smoke rises from the fractured city.
Troops on the streets hustle my neighbours.

Down by the corner, a legless man screams.
His trousers stained with the fresh hatred that the wrong beliefs have
brought.

There is a man with a radio on the street,
We listen as our gracious leader spouts things we can't relate
to.

Your world is at peace. How can you understand?
Has your neighbour's house been reduced to a pile of rubble in front of
your very eyes? No? Well do you know where your
brothers and sisters are? Don't patronise me, don't say it'll be
okay,
We need to rise up from this travesty,
And mend our broken shards.