If we could paint the sky
The colour of our hearts
Would the sky be ruled by
Black clouds
Would it hail
And would the sun cease to shine
On supposed summer days
If we could turn the grass to
The colour of our minds
Would the grass turn brown and die
Would we only have dirt
To walk on
Coarse dry dirt
To make the flowers die
And water dissipate into dry choking air
If we could all say
The thoughts we harbour deep in our souls
Would there be a lot more broken hearts
A lot more wars; internal and external
Roaring into existence every second
Would we hate our mothers our fathers
Our sisters; our brothers
Would the world be against us;
And us against the world
If we could paint the sky
The colour of our hearts
Would the sky be ruled by
Black clouds