The down trodden are
for all make
them so.
The hate full
keep them
in that place
a special
kind of hell
no space.
Yet others
have I
seen so
kind
guilty would
you be
if you
make not
the
change
for
them all.
The future
is made
not of
words I
fear
where then
will our
children be
stilled.
In a dream?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem