Gun to your head
Tell the truth
You want me dead
Hanging by a noose
But I am immortal you see
I will live in your death and decay
For centuries to come
You'll see me in your daughters and sons
You'll see me in their frail faces and bodies
In the grey of their eyes and bulging stomachs
I will be forever
And you will always remember me
My presence may be as strong as the heat in June
Or as quiet as your cries as you left your home
I may be in the background or forefront
But it doesn't matter as long as I live
That's my legacy
That's what my soldiers are fighting for
Eternal poverty.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem