Despite
intentions
in civil soar
debts loom,
seized plunder
for social war.
Distilled
treachery
laps at our shore
controlled
by blunt heads
swapped like décor
spinning
messages
to shape the lore:
lies and
platitudes
over the snore
since we
claim no land
here anymore,
grieving
while getting
shoved out the door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem