Window on a troubled world

On phones, in newsrooms, through the cracks they creep,

empowered, persuasive, poisoning the air, 

presenting fair as foul and foul as fair.

In empty bedrooms wives and mothers weep;

the roll of drums lulls consciences to sleep 

and scorn or prison waits for those who dare

ask 'what price empty, smoking ruins where,

fresh out of school or jail, young lives are cheap?'

Across the ocean other crazies dwell;

here decency is dead and money all,

there hollow promises contest the prize.

Each offers us a different view of Hell.

From East and West the craven salesmen call

on honest households, pedalling their lies.