Here, we turn on the television
And always looking at the newest
Armour, munitions, weapons.
Almost like a carpet advert.
I always laughed about ' sabre rattling '
But we are bombarded with patriot acts,
Street cameras, which we take with a pinch of salt,
Together with at touch of those mysterious
Black eyes and bruised lips
By those special men in cars.
Orwell wrote that it might never be like this
But something like this will happen
He died in 1950,
But the seed was already sown.
And, now we are subjected
To political daily ramblings
Who is the superpower who, on a daily basis
Threatens third world countries
(Invades them and tries to take over - and gets thrown out)
I have a feeling that we will be terminated
By a 10,0000 degree disagreement
So the poor, homeless, disturbed street people
Will be taken care of by a caring government.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Conscientious writing as ever, Willow. Third world countries are also sickened by 'carpet adverts' and I hope that another brilliant George Owell will prophesy some world peace with the hope that this porphesy could come true. The poor, homeless and disturbed pray for peace so that the gods will have time to see their hunger. Susie.