Up and down we walk,
Trailing our tracks from merciless approach,
Citizenry of civilization reproached.
Thunders are riots in placards,
Blowing up a failed system scorecards.
The divinity.
The sanctimonious vile they craft.
The tired legs still didn't kick gimmicks.
Up and down we talk tough,
Our beguile guts monetized in closure.
Who will tell the next testimony,
Of accrued handouts given as mere TP.
Youthful ginger, besought their consciousness.
Up and down we still fall prey deceitfully.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem