wonted tears are not cared for
whimper in one, two and four
nothing grows on the angry land
little and ripe age growled hard

water refuses to stay
every green grass is now hay
are we born to die in hunger
if attention refuses, there will be hanger

poor people post no pipe dream
in their mind, death they ream
O, what catastrophe raids us
it madeth many souls moan in fuss

before the sunrise millions fall
fall with their souls and all
our boundary, thou never guide
open it and let dilemma intrude

what shall we say then,
no safe place like the den,
this habitat gives no joy
all we grant daily is cry

.......death calls hundred all days
.......hunger kills without pity
....... labor without gain
and controllers without care
thou thinkest you treat fair
however our dead shadows shall torment thee in bays
and calamity shall fall your city
if thou repent not, thou will gnash teeth in pain

© Enyis Shakes