Where are the Poets?

Where are the poets, the dancers
the dreamers who make things come true?
Where are the leaders, and believers
and the folks who know what to do?

Why are there quarrels
and debate
over things of nonsense
rooted in nothing but hate?

Why are there cracks in solemn foundations,
born forth from greed?
They sprout and spread persistently
like rats, or lice or weeds.

What are the lyrics
that makes a nation pause?
What notes must be strung together
for each of us to admit our flaws?

Where are the engineers, the doctors,
the carpenters with wood?
There are bridges to be built,
and underprivileged to be understood.

Call out the peacemakers
armed with diplomacy and grit.
Silence those who wage foolish war
with contracted guards, and arguments unfit.

Paint the future, sketch a dream,
sing out in fervent praise!
For the end is nowhere close to us,
so do not countdown the days.

We enjoy the setting sun,
and provide lights to darkened skies
so dare not fear for us,
tomorrow with certainty, we will again arise.