My Poetry. What hope do they have?

A Desolate land with hardly any hope
Parents with children stressing to cope.
Uncertain times in uncertain days
Hoping that something will help in their ways.
What do they do? Where do they go?
Every little turn and feeling low.
Men with guns who will be next
No time to breathe let alone text.
The airport is shut, when can we go?
Civilians all huddled run to and fro.
Bombs going off, people are killed
Limbs are detached streets blood-filled.
A people of hardship, fear, no hope
Waiting for Governments to tighten the rope
Families in terror locked indoors
Lying in dark rooms sleeping on floors
Dreading the tap or knock on doors
Dare not answer for fear they will die
For helping Governments, becoming a spy.
The World is in disaster
When catastrophe is the norm
When will it end? 
No matter what Government they form?