It speaks pain
Cutting my soul
How much greed
Entered our heart
One lay lairs of peace
Secluded safe
The others sweat
Burrowing daily toil
Tattered and ragged
Hunger haunts daily
Below the spines
A mockery in public;
Avarice bulge about
Voluminous space, hung
Protruding belly
To reign in private
Woe to my cupidity
Rending my heart
One time shooting Gaza
The other time
Looting M17 remains
Such misery crave our core
Woe to my birth
Woe my breath!
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