Mothers on the ground, collapsing, withering
As the snakes in politics keep on slithering
I'm not one for religion
Not if this is the result
People fighting over land
Dirty and blood soaked
Wives are crying
Husbands dying
On both sides of strife
Bombs are flying
Weasels vying
Broken, tattered
Yolks
Children lying
Children laying
Dead upon bike spokes
They had future
They had yokes
Spun up on gold ropes
They had wants
They had needs
Of they never spoke
They had dreams
Beautiful things
Betwixt the sodden folk
The battle may be over now
But the war keeps continuing
It calls out inside my head
Screams
Are echoing
Marrow clumps, dried up reams
Fill this hollow girth
As I can't help but shed a tear
For this sad stained earth
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love the rhyme scheme and choice of words.