' We're sorry, ' they say
As they hand you your resume,
' You're just not qualified '
Is how they come to justify,
So you try and you try then
You try not to cry.
The need to work so you can eat
Has turned to war and then defeat.
Your friends do care
But have nothing to spare,
Most of your family is dead,
Now death is what you dread.
Government funds are running low
And there's no where else to go,
Sleeping underneath the stars cuz
There's no money for the bars.
Now you're living off the land,
Begging for a helping hand.
Perhaps there'll come a day
When someone will lead the way and
Some wise words will be spoken
To help the life that's been broken.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very captivating peace