if you fake you alive
cause all the real died
a long time
we are carbon copies of self
because of wealth
we were blessed
and turned away now stressed
a chosen people
now we are feeble
destroyed by disease
and we destroy the trees
which hold the cure
one day we all will be here no more
so im hope you are happy killing the world
this is obserd no money for the cure
only for war
so far
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem