Help, help, help,
I wear my cloak of impotence,
Running around, graceless,
As I try to graduate from a whelp.

Help, help, help,
I thought friends, likes, and kin,
Support me in my endeavors in
Achieving success, only to fall and become strep.

Help, help, help,
Recession  is looming
People worried about famine
And every person is on a flip,

Help, help, help,
The other facet of war, hunger
Lingers and throws you back in rapport
To WWII, when all sectors crashed and none slept.

Help, help, help,
Entertain your soul with faith
Leaping into despair with a breath
Percolating freshness and sweeping away dejection.

By Malakkc

I'm a Canadian whose life has been interesting as I've lived in Developing countries and here. The contrast of law, order, and amenities available to us Canadians (which we take for granted, sometimes) to war torn civil wars is enormous. It leaves an influence upon the soul that cries out for justice. My poetry and writing reflect that and more.

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