April 26, 2009

World Poverty

A land is mortal and life is precious.
Starve to death and be a hero or fight to survive and be forgotten.
They left us to find something to chew that might last a minute or so.
The smell of diesel is like fresh air and dust is like water that cleanses our face.
We beg so we can survive for another day and to steal
to spend our lives in jail.
We have nothing to lose even we are squash by a charging bull or be eaten by
ants.
Survival is no longer an option for death is the answer.
We were born to smell like crude oil and to forget about our future.
You can help me and my brother if you start helping yourself.

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