Not one but six newspapers I get
To look for news to uplift my mood
Each headline scanned moves to firmly set
My jovial mood in a sombre brood.
Life is shaken and unrest gets stirred
Unease, like fire, spreads through my being
Good things are scattered but end-up blurred
As swells of conflict is all I’m seeing.
What I read I know is what is real
But every wrong-doing carries along
Some hope and some heart-felt appeal
A life yet unborn, an unwritten song!
I wait patiently for things to amend
The newspaper flutters and then says:
“Mere hope is a passive message you send
We must all prepare to mend our ways.”
11 April 2016