Hear our cries
Listen to our voices
Look at our tears
The present has treated us bad
Leaving nothing but hope for our next
We wept
Yes more than ocean we poured
With our balls swollen
Yes our eyes as red as red moon
Our heart heavy
Filled with bothers
Filled with sour joy
Our ancestors had suffered
Yes they did
They were robbed
Robbed by adored swindlers
They swindled our fathers
Replaced our honey and milk
With lies and cheap
Our elders were sensitive
We got the much needed freedom
Hoping to cope with ourselves
But all to no avail
Our elders learned from the swindlers
They learned not the good
Swindled turned swindlers
But that happened a long time
Our home grown swindlers
They never stopped where they should
They poisoned the upcoming
The upcoming more perfect
The past becomes an option
An option we prayed to have
Maybe our adored swindlers were better
At least they gave in return
Alas! We are not grown
Maybe we were not ripe
We clamored for freedom
We pursued our saviors
Saviors as they tagged themselves
Hoping to serve ourselves better
But yet we could not
We are three brothers of one parent
Despite our need to be in oneness
We want to go our separate ways
But together we can pursue the traitor
And together we can save the next
Our past better
Our present worst
Our next the question
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nicely written. you have explained generations, hope you will read my fluttering beauties