Why must people kill, why must we poor die.
Why are they such scum, to the press they lie.
Why is my sister dead, why are these raids.
Why does another cousin, fall each day to AIDS.
Why is there no food, why did my mother starve.
What do they expect to gain, from the chaos that they carve.

Aidan Ross

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/why-34/