We Poem by Marton Dezso

We put our parents into graves
And lied to our own children
We drove away all our kings
To get on better without them

We made fancy doors from fruitful trees
And let our filth to flood the rivers
We made pills curing all disease
Yet we couldn't cure our sickness

We rather mourned a twisted star
As he was our best friend
We've drifted from ourselfes so far
That we lost sight of our brethren

From our plows we forged swords
Not as it was written
We were food of hungry crows
On our bones false diamonds glisten