My Poetry. Can you see?

Can you see our world
from a different light,
when it's war-enticed
and does not look bright?
Is the good Lord above
watching our foes,
choosing our enemies
to see how it goes?

Were we ever designed
to be battle-ready,
lifting our hands,
becoming unsteady?
Are we destined to be
hungry and cold,
when some are rich
with means untold?

Does the moon ever fade,
tarnish, or die?
Is the sun going to shine
in a bright, clear sky?
Are butterflies colours
black and white?
Are oceans bottomless,
a vast of delight?
Is love just a word,
meaningless and dull?
Is a bond not your own word,
carved in your skull?

Do you help your neighbour
when they are in plight?
Can you sit around watching
while others fight?
Would you ignore your brother
if his skin was brown?
Can you stand and watch
another human drown?

Could you ignore a person
who cannot communicate,
having learning difficulties
that they did not create?

These are questions
I cannot answer,
but we live in hope—
like a cure for cancer!

© William Sinclair Manson 2025