Peace Talks (Poetry)

Too often, it’s a hopeless task —
a mission doomed to fail
despite each pseudo-friendly mask
disguising a forked tail.

There is no reasoning with some —
they will not meet halfway
but speak the language of the gun,
ignore what good men say.

A mad dog has no “better” side,
appealing is in vain,
attempt to stroke his mangy hide
and he’ll just bite again.

The ink has barely time to dry
on treaties freshly made
when someone else lets bullets fly
and screws the whole charade.

The pen, once mighty, then records
diplomacy has lost.
At times, there’s nothing like a sword
to get one's point across.