A summer day and a field in bloom,
Sunflowers reach for the sky,
Hidden between this beauty are body parts,
Why did these innocents have to die?
A hammer clenched in an old regime,
A blood stained sickle held by Putin,
The iron curtain looks like it is to make an encore,
That type of extreme politics we don’t want no more,
How can these ghouls sleep at night,
Where their actions are so sick and impolite,
The whole world wants to kick Putin’s ass,
Except the dithering politicians who have disappeared,
The hammer and the sickle from communism,
The communism that is not extreme,
The tools of the trade of the working class,
That is what those politics were made for,
To give power back to the worker,
Who had built and nurtured the land,
Now the sickle is tainted with innocent blood,
Something western communists cannot understand,
Only bad news gets the headlines ,
Only the extremists get on the front page,
But communist politics is for the working class,
Those grafters are now in a rage,
As the extremists paint the world in innocent blood,
All those years of peace did the hardliners no good,
The Soviet era is not buried after all,
We lost so many innocent friends,
In a beautiful looking sunflower field,
The brilliant, vibrant yellow leaves painted red,
And the bastard scum laughing over the dead,
Putin you are sick,
And you need your wings clipped,
But no westerner in power,
Will ever stand up to you,
All wars are fed by someone,
And a lot of weapons are made in Russia,
The dead and dying thank the warlords,
For turning out the light of a peaceful dream,
The U.S. and the U.K. send parcels to war lands,
Full of bullets and bombs,
They take the blank cheque,
Put it in their back pocket,
And then think of tennis or croquet,
Ears closed, eyes closed to the news,
As foreign lands are blown away,
As we lose doctors and researchers,
A hole in humanity,
The iron fist of a dictator,
Pulls out the heart from hope,
We should not reply to this violence,
With more acts of the same,
Peace cannot be built on bullets,
This is not an already worked out video game,
We need to talk, set things straight,
Stop playing chess with its checkmate,
We need to sit purposefully in a room,
And stop acting like schoolboys.
Escalation means annihilation,
Suffering so far away from home,
To easy to cause pain,
Blowing away innocents,
Out of the sky,
Run away into mother Russia,
But it is too late,
We saw you and your smoking gun,
We heard you laugh,
So there is no where for you to run,
So we wait us innocent people,
To see what the West will do,
Waiting,
Sleeping on it,
Any word from number 10?
White house?
Kremlin?
No news, no real reaction,
Sorry it is summer,
They are packing their bags,
Going on holiday,
More important than saving lives,
How many more flowers do we need,
To lay on every grave of the innocent,
Killed by war, by terrorist, by dictator,
How many more bodies do we have to sew back together,
To give them a decent, humane burial,
You don’t see the president in the morgue,
Crying over the victim,
How many more holes must we dig,
To bury our dead, our loved ones,
Burying our hope,
Burying our peace,
Burying everything we ever wanted,
Burying is not a release,
It is another scar on the mind,
Another pain in our sick heart,
And we have lost hope in all politics,
Our leaders are just as sick,
Feeding the war machine,
As our hospitals don’t cure our sick,
And the schools are underfunded,
So we can pay for bullets and bombs,
Our leaders are as sick as theirs,
You don’t see these bastards cry real tears,
It is all propaganda you see on the TV,
Keeping the peace with you and me,
And the innocents will keep falling from the sky,
And bombed while asleep at night,
The West, the East have all raped our dreams,
And no one will listen to our plight,
And things will only get sicker,
As the leaders continue to play chess,
We are all pawns in an endless game,
The world is one big fucking mess!

┬ęDarren Hobson July 2014