Hung, limp, splint, trapped
My leg has grown numb in this desolate pit
Fierce animals linger and snarl up above
Waiting to pounce on my flesh bit-by-bit
Suspended before a rich- controlling world
I'm forced to feed on our few meager rations
The numbness grows, the circulation slows
From these multilateral imposing sanctions
All thanks to this, my fruit will never be ripe
And to my missile testing politic suicide
The future is threatened to collapse in the dark
And I'm losing all hope to be reunified
This accusation of being a backward rogue nation
Has suspended me in talks since having been found
The West may suggest they stand right-side up
But it is they, I say, who are in-fact up-side down
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem