When we're not,
Killing each other
We are doing,
The wrong thing.
Seems, not ever really,
Any, lasting win
No progressive, Bingos!
After thousands of years
Sill in the mud
Of crimes, lies and
Savagery,
Same, untrustworthy,
Sin!
We were in,
When human life
Was hatched
Out of some kind
Of dreamer's wing,
That really never
Took off,
As far as character
Is concerned,
For better things.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem