The Game
Land and people being traded,
for money, power and great pride.
Cultures now being divided,
by poeple far from protests cried.
They say: Mine! Mine!
You're mine to conquer,
mine to buy or throw away.
They say: Pay! Pay!
pay all your taxes,
you might have nothing - I need more.
Greedily they count their money,
greedily they hoard their land,
knowingly seizing property,
they take away the native's land.
They say: Yours! Yours!
This land is stupid.
They don't obey, I put to shame.
They say: Go! Go!
Leave my new country.
It was once yours - but now don't stay.
Happily they kill the people,
happily they rip down trees.
Now once fruitful land is barren.
Now they leave the land to waste.
We say: No! No!
We don't want you,
we'll fight until you leave this place.
We say: Ha! Ha!
you evil people,
Your just like spoiled children at play.
YOU ARE READING
The Sins of Man
PoetryWhy is there so much hate in the world? Why does nobody confess - the sins of man.
