Yemen <br /> <br />It is awful poor country, with little to offer but carrots and sand. <br />Come to think about it very few carrots only brush land and dust. <br />People cry freedom but no one listens. A tiny place in the corner <br /> of nowhere, mud huts and stones... no oil to lift a jaded spirit. <br />Chew a sort of weed that that lulls souls into stupor and bring <br />temporary peace. Yet they go on fighting tyranny despite being <br />ignored by us, we who must be selective in whom to defend. <br /> <br />They want to be free in a land where no roses bloom knowing <br /> they have little to offer other, sand and stones and a longing <br />to be rid of tyranny. Help us they cry to the sky, but the world <br />is full of carrots, dry sticks. Love of once country is an odd thing <br />it can be full of scorpions and deadly snakes but it is the land of <br />their fathers they have seen it bathed in a golden hue at sunset <br />and they remember its hidden beauty.<br /><br />oskar hansen<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/yemen/
