The country will get want to wants,
but there will be souls with dreams unfulfilled.
Perhaps that is a good thing.
For un-quenched thirsts are fuel for fire in the belly.
A nation with fire in its pits breed a desperate nation.
And desperate men will rid obstacles in their path.
A desperate man has no fear, he has nothing to lose.
And yet he sits there in desperate quiet and frustrated contemplation, still feeling mighty mighty sad.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem