In this world we will not share our land,
for that we raise the higher hand.
Bulls of hate stand behind human shields.
Worthless lives die in terrorized fields..
Such thievery begat the needy and poor,
gunshot wounds and death abhorred.
Blood fills harrowed streets.
Whilst tower dwellers call the shots,
innocent civilians fall to their death.
Such killers do not care
one of theirs is worth a thousand of the rest.
Strip the streets of the cheapest lives,
ne're let one survive.
These are the words of the mighty few.
Paint that picture...paint it true.
.....Melvina.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You have painted the picture vividly, It wouldn't be this way if they had read your poetry. Thank you.