Dante's Inferno....(When Heart Can't Keep Quite) Poem by Pietro Grossi

Unemployed, Mocked and prey of scorn,
I run away from land where I was born,
Higly offended, no more I could stand
I came ask for a help to British Land.

But, why, a Country with enviable trend,
That strutted itself with pride, round and around
It catched so deep his head down in the sand
And let his people down, low to the ground.

The few job that remains, they give to strangers..
..Nothing Against, they too have the right,
But the reason is not Democracy..
..It's because they pay them..the half of price.

The zero of job...taxes a lot...Oh Tante! ! !
It's becoming for real 'The Hell Of Dante',
And, yet, In many enjoy it, full with bold:
'The New Rich inside The Thirth World'.

However, what to expect from a Country
(They don't like teach at school, but every knows)
Not for war, ...but politic complot
Sold to France best of land...I'm right or not?


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