Violence

War does not determine who is right - only who is left.
Bertrand Russell

The words of the prophets
Are wrote in the walls of the subway
Violence is again taking its toll
Victims of the violence
Are black and white
Rich and poor
Young and old
Famous and unknown
They are most important of all,
Human beings
Whom other human beings
Loved and needed
No one, no matter where he lives
Or what he does
Can be certain who next will suffer
From some senseless act of bloodshed
And yet it goes on and on and on
In this world of ours
Why? Why? Why?
What has violence ever accomplished?
What has it ever created?

Power is built in weakness
In withstanding the attacks of the envious!
Our enemies want to divide us
Forgetting compassion and forgiveness
Violence is a mindless menace
Which again stains our land
And every one of our lives
It is not the concern of any one race

Whenever any American's life
Is taken by another American unnecesarily...

Whether it is done in the name of the law
Or in defiance of the law,
By one man or by a gang,
In cold blood or in passion
In an attack of violence
Or in response to violence,
Whenever we tear at the fabric of our lives,
Which another man has painfully and clumsily
Woven for himself
And his children,
Whenever we do this,
Then the whole world is degraded.


Yet we seemingly tolerate
A rising level of violence
That ignores our common humanity
And our claims to civilization alike.

Too often, we honor swagger
And bluster and the wielders of force.
Too often, we excuse those
Who are willing to build their own lives
On the shattered dreams of other human beings.
But this much is clear:
Fear breeds violence,
Violence breeds violence,
Repression breeds retaliation,
And only a cleansing of our whole society
Can remove this sickness from our souls.
For when you teach a man to hate
And to fear his brother,
When you teach that he is a lesser man
Because of his color or his beliefs
Or the policies that he pursues....
When you teach that those who differ from you
Threaten your freedom or your job
Or your home or your family,
Then you also learn to confront others,
Not as fellow citizens,
But as enemies.
To be met not with cooperation,
But with conquest.
To be subjugated and to be mastered.
We learn, at the last,
To look at our brothers as aliens.
Alien men with whom we share a city,
But not a community.
Men bound to us in common dwelling,
But not in common effort.

We learn to share only a common fear,
Only a common desire to retreat from each other.
Only a common impulse to meet disagreement
With force.
Our lives on this planet
Are too short.
The work to be done
Is to great to let this spirit flourish
Any longer in this planet of ours.

Of course, we cannot banish it with a program
Nor with a resolution....
But we can perhaps remember,
If only for a time,
That those who live with us are our brothers,
That they share with us
The same short moment of life,
TThat they seek, as do we,
Nothing but the chance to live out their lives
In purpose and in happiness,
Winning what satisfaction and
Fulfillment that they can.
Surely, this bond of common fate,
Surely, this bond of common goals
Can begin to teach us something.
Surely, we can learn, at the least,
To look around at those of us,
Of our fellow men,
And surely, we can begin to work a little harder
To bind up the wounds among us and to become,
In our hearts,
Brothers and countrymen once again.