As greasy as oil is...
It is not that slick enough
To keep people from perishing,
In conflict over it!
And since we used ours...
Gulping in a guzzle!
Theirs is what we wish.
But lieing to say,
There are terrorists after us...
Depletes an economy,
That eventually fades away!
And those we claim threaten our interests...
Are curious to know,
As they approach our shores...
To invest and purchase land upon which
They place foreign names after buying it.
This land once delared sacred and united...
For us and generations that followed.
When did we begin to show that as a concern?
And who has burned the welcome signs in jest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem