A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Please listen to the video. His words mean more today then 29 years years ago.
There is a name for war and killing.
There is a name for giving in.
There is another name for war.
The name is sin.
There is still time to turn things around.
Make all hatred cease.
Give another name to living.
Call it peace.
My poor baby.
Daddy loved you so.
Gun are roaring loud and near.
I sat and prayed yesterday with a Muslim man.
We cry together for the death of so many.
Then we pray together for peace.
I stood in the great valleys and asked…
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