Here lies the American Dream,
Replaced with sin, dashed hopes, plots and schemes.
Here lies what our forefathers died for,
What so many honest folk tried for.
Here lies what I thought was the good life,
Cut down by the blade of a sharp knife,
And knife happens to be named Poverty,
Which would explain why so many honest men robbin' me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem