The poet

I'm a poet
My words examines the sores of the nation.
Answer me!
Why do you plunder the earth?
Spilling crimson juice on the sand i tread in the
name of your beliefs?
We have the rain and the rainbow
But all we do is maim; shattering the esrth's paraphsnalia.
We escort ourselves like termites,
Planting epataphs on mass graves.

You famer!
For how long will continue this fatelessness?
Turning your land into a citadel of maim,
Where your kins men find untimely rests.

Let these word like echo
To ceaseless eternity

This poem is about: 
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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