The Stem Of Conflict Poem by Sabrina Brand

There a Dutch stands
As if guarding a fort
With his rough hands
For opening the port

This establishment
Allows the Dutch
To go to the Cape of Africa to make their dent
And escape the British clutch

The conflict has uprooted from the stem
Each day it grows, tall
Its petals creating a hem
The rupture that started it all

The Dutch do their best
To make the English stay away
To destroy the Crown's crest
So that they have a say

The competition in trading
Is full of cheap tricks
It is thick and won't be fading
With a quick treaty and will be filled with gun clicks

The English, they don't cooperate
They deny a treaty and cheat
Which the Dutch don't appreciate
Taking the spice islands of Molucca as a treat

All the Dutch desires
Is to have revenge be send
To the English and start up these fires
Across the open bend

The Dutch and the British, fighting
It cannot be kept at bay
On the ocean, what a sight
As the Dutch sail away