I write this with sadness and emotions,
Though one might think it's a feature film,
I wish to address the filthy rich,
And those good at heart.
It's not out of flight of fansy,
It's not about the French leave either,
But rather out of reality.
I got a face like a wet week- end.
Not only me but the whole community,
Our emaciated bodies are our face value,
This is the fact of the Matter,
We have fell at our first hurdle,
Though we got oil isn't ours,
The " owners" own it.
We have to face up to the facts.
We got herds but stolen by the "raiders"
Yesterday we faffed around,
But even the president falled out.
We can't fathom out about the donations,
For we hear that in news and dream about it.
We. Can't fawn over the politicians,
For in the streets they've hidden themselves.
With there big bellies they move,
As by hunger and drought we die.
I hope I found you in good terms,
For we feed off mosquitoes and insects.
And soon we will be carcasses.
How I wish one will ferret out,
And save this perishing souls.
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