Let Me Tell You To My Place Poem by clawdea benat

i look up above to see how beautiful the sky was
my back pack is with me and i was on a journey
i stop to a place where it is the capital site
i was raise 100 miles from that city

on the television i saw
how filthy and timid the leaders are
they knew what its like to be hungry
but has no care if their people are

such small minded politicians!
corrupt with the deceptiveness
the poor mental society from everywhere
how can they be ever to survive from that?

the typhoon came, the great calamities came
with the help of other countries
may the victim survived
but the crocodiles are waiting

and they eat the whole help of others

my GOD, the highest pharisees thinks
GOD is blind

if the other countries are pitiful
better to drop their sympathy direct to the VICTIMS
of corruption, hungriness, damage from the weather
and everyone will have their share!