Decisions made on money
Are quick-fix vanities
Sure to please the rabble
But ransomed at the cost of
Centuries to come
When the wounded drag
Their broken limbs
To the altars of the ancestors
Weeping the salty unkempt tears
of Betrayal.
(Previously published in Autumn Leaves, July 2003)
Representation Without Taxation. It's called, Betrayed - all. sidi
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I agree with Sidi. Another great write. Patricia