My friend you talk about my people and me
My friend you talk
about my people and me
being equal
to Hitler and the Germans
of the Second World War,
but do not know
that I and most of us Afrikaners
treated black people
like human beings,
never lifted a hand
against one,
that I knew from being
a toddler that they were
Christians as well
when my mother
gave the money that was left
from my father’s funeral fund
for a church to be constructed
in their own community.
How I saw the effect
of the Church Street bomb
killing innocent civilians
on the street
men, women and children
from any race.
How I was forced
to go to the army
and to war
and patriotic did my duty there
to stop communists killing,
raping and robbing the future
like they did in East Germany,
Hungary in sixty-eight
and with the Portuguese
still living in Mozambique
and in Angola
when that countries
got their independence.
How in Soweto with the army
I had to stop black people
killing black people,
burning their fellow man alive
while their women were
cheering them on
and I saw man more being animals
than human beings
without having any mercy
for each other
having lost all conscience
for their cruel deeds.
You do not know
that I will not quarter
for a country
full of pirates
and not the Orlando
soccer playing type
but people who rob,
kill, maim and rape
that there’s no other escape
for Afrikaner people like me
and nowhere else to go
that I love this land
maybe more than
my forefathers did
who sacrificed
their lives for it
that my great grandfather Japie Strydom
lost his farm in the Cape colony
when as a Cape rebel
he joined the war
against the British,
was almost executed
when the war ended
was imprisoned on St. Helena,
that his wife
died in a British concentration camp
where she was fed finely grinded glass
in the flour given to her
that I want to get rid
of oppression against me
and my fellow Afrikaners
and want to have a life
like any one else.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Privilege
We on behalf of the entire human race
Serving you this privilege notice
Stop killing stop killing stop killing
Stop killing innocent men women
And children and also animals birds trees
Stop raping them
Stop starving them.
See the candle of humanity in our hand
Ihis candle is against corrupt people
This candle is against murders invaders
This candle is against rapists and looters
This candle is against and against all acts
That are against human race and humanities.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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From pools of blood
From pools of blood bushes, trees
and aloes grow in the veldt
where British soldiers
fired on my countrymen
and some bayoneted them.
Concentration camps where twenty thousand
women and children died without dignity
at the hand of foreigners,
who claimed to be fellow Christians
are now covered with grass
and that past are being blotted out
as if the misery, the indignity,
the mass murder
never happened
and great Queen Victoria
is still dignified
and still I hold Great Britain responsible
for the murder of my great grand mother,
for the destruction
of my great grand father’s farm,
for the seizure
of my other great grand father’s property,
for sending him to St. Helena
as a prisoner of war,
for invading my country
for making profit from the minerals
and the quarter Scotsman in me
together with my three quarters Afrikaner parts
forever wants to be free
from the enslavement
which that foreign nation brought.
[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Yom HaShoa
There are things
which people never discuss,
like wickedness and destruction
and loss of humanity
that comes with hate.
It’s funny how people
loose sight of God
and declare wars in His name
and kill the innocent in office towers
and lose all humanness.
I could never understand
why like animals,
people have been kept in camps.
Even my great grandmother
died in a British concentration camp
and the names of the predecessors
of many Afrikaners,
stays written on their harts.
I see terrible photographs
of people lying like broken shop dolls,
where they are famished, molested,
embarrassed, degraded, broken and killed
and Yom HaShoa
hits mighty blows
into my soul.
Having been a soldier myself,
I wonder how warriors
could lose all humanity,
or were they only
sociopathic animals
without any honour and fame;
when they demonstrated their cruelty
in Auschwitz–Birkenau,
Buchenwald, Treblinka
and at other places.
I am a Afrikaner boer
and from Scottish decent
and my forefathers fought as boers
and rebels, against the British
and my Scottish great grandpa
stood against them.
We can go back
and trace and know our families
and somehow every body;
might be a Jew.
I sometimes wonder
from where my father’s names,
Jacob and Solomon comes
and if it is only from
the sacred book.
Still identity, integrity
and freedom
and being humane,
goes much further
than race and nationality.
In the end
everybody stands
at the feet
of the Judge and Creator;
where words and deeds
carry their own power.
[Yom HaShoa=>Holocaust Remembrance Day. With thanks to Mahdokt, for the pictures and message in her email that inspired this verse.]
poem by Gert Strydom
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Genocide
When they try to tell you knowledge is a dangerous thing
"it's such a dangerous thing"
The people that have it are the people that sin
And the people that need it are the people that can never win
"they can never win"
Let me get you out of here little broken wing
There are people round here that are right
There are people round here that like to sleep at night
There are people round here that go slow
There are people round here that don't kindly to the killing of the buffalo
When they tear up all the treaties and break up all the plans
"they break up all the plans"
Did you do your duty and kill on command?
Did you know the redman used to roam this land?
"he used to roam this land"
Now the souls of lost warriors blow across the sands
People round here they get it right
People round here we like to sleep at night
There are people round here that go slow
People round here that don't take kindly to the killing of the buffalo, oh no
So listen to my story and listen to it well
"you better listen well"
Listen to the glory of the gory details of the tale i tell
Did you know the redman very well?
"i used to know him well"
Did you know the hunting ground before it became a hell?
There are people round here that are right
There are people round here that like to sleep at night
There are people round here i don't know
There are people round here that don't take kindly to the killing of the buffalo
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing
The killing of the
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing
The killing
So listen to my story of genocide
How they were hunted and slaughtered till there was no place left to hide
Did you know the redman used to hold his head with pride?
Till every man, woman and child were destroyed
There are people round here that get it right
There are people round here that couldn't sleep at night
There are people round here i don't know
There are people round here that don't take kindly to the killing of the buffalo
There are people round here that understand
There are people round here that couldn't give a damn
There are people round here that go slow
There are people round here that don't take too kindly to the killing of the buffalo
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing
The killing of the
They're killing all the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing
They're killing all the
They're killing all the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing of the buffala-o
The killing
The killing
The killing of the buffala-o
(repeat at random)
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Crying against the wind
I
I saw boys growing up as
Christians,
learning about God,
being taught at school,
to respect
about discipline,
to stretch the mind
and the boys were young and innocent
and for us there were peace.
We slept with unlocked doors,
the police did their job
to the best of their ability,
but the world changed.
II
I saw the effects
of the terrorist bomb
in church street
that smote the innocent
people in the street
and young and old
men, women
scarred, mutilated, maimed,
and cut into bits and pieces
by shrapnel and the deadly
rain of flying glass.
I saw an academic hospital
filled in every hall,
and the few doctors
and paramedics and sisters and nurses
and accountants, clerks,
and office people
issuing disaster cards
and admitting the living.
III
I saw young boys forced to become
a part of a deadly war machine,
and they were barbered, drilled, cursed
and trained to be the best soldiers,
learning discipline,
the strength found in oneself,
about friendship
and suffering the consequences
of killing humans beings.
I saw young men
playing Russian roulette
and at times
wishing to be dead
and I saw boys
becoming better persons
than they were
and starting to be
true believers
of the almighty One
and others turning
into the worst
kind of human beings
and losing all religion,
Integrity and decency
and the madness of hate
taking its toll
I saw boys going
through dense bush,
living in the field,
tracking and destroying deadly terrorists
as just another day’s work,
driving armed vehicles
and battle tanks,
fighting against great odds
and winning every battle
and the war.
I saw war,
the destruction,
the desolation that it brings,
the suffering of the innocent,
the savage carnage
and dead enemies
in great numbers
and people with shot off
legs and arms.
I saw friends die,
shot to pieces,
toasted by prosperous projectiles,
smashed by mortars
and killed
in most of the ways that war brings
and politicians lying and deposing
each other
and the world changed.
IV
I saw religious fanatics
killing innocent people,
crashing planes into buildings,
getting the war
that they begged for,
dying the death
which they sought
and innocent bystanders
paying the toll
for their deeds
and the world changed.
V
I saw the borders being thrown open
to all of Africa,
criminals streaming in,
selling drugs, running prostitution,
lost two cars
to robbers that the insurance
did not pay
and my best friend
left the country
after a hijacking.
I saw children
smoking marijuana, doing crack cocaine,
injecting themselves with heroine
living like vagrants,
whoring around,
robbing from their parents,
braking into houses,
escaping from rehabilitation,
going to jail,
losing the reasons to live,
desperately trying to get the next fix
and dying from drugs and Aids.
VI
I saw reverse racism
that changed laws,
discrimination,
white people with degrees
and experience without work,
while untrained black people
brought every government department
but the taxman
almost to a standstill
and foreign black aliens from all over Africa
having greater rights
and electricity being cut
and the country was in darkness
and the people lived in poverty
and tatters
while they thought about what they had lost
and nobody was counting the cost
and the oppressed were crying in vain
against the wind
and waiting for the rain
that brings life back again.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Blockhouses had been erected right over the country
Blockhouses had been erected right over the country,
farms had been entered and burnt to the ground,
Livestock and animals had been slaughtered
and women and children were rounded up
and interned into death camps.
Young boys
were set against white walls
and firing squads
was set against them
and a super power
clenched its fist around this country
and stood gigantic
against every Boer farmer.
l’Envoi
That time will be forever black
in history
with the misdeeds of the British
that is well known
and the ruination of a nation, arousing from it
where women and children perished as targets
at the commands of Horatio Herbert Kitchener.
[Note: My own great grandmother died in a British concentration camp and my great grandfather was sent by the British to St. Helena as a prisoner of war and as a result of this, my grandfather(Gert Strydom) grew up in a orphanage.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Boom
On the street
Boom was laugh...
Run run people
Are run
Ways on the
Street...
Death the two
People
Injured
Twenty people...
Bombing
Making
To truly
Killing not only
for two people...
It was killing
The street and
State with country;
Silint...
And happness
Of the people
Life also
Killing the boom
very much...
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Jakobus Le Grange Marais (a reply to Christopher Hope)
One early evening while waiting for a train
I walked into an old station bar,
to buy a cold cider to kill a thirst
in the sweltering
thirty degree Celsius summer heat
and saw a very old cripple man
who nursed a glass of white wine
and he was talking to himself
and sometimes stuttered over his words.
When he looked up at me
there was fire in his eyes
and it was almost as if
he recognized me, from a dream
or a prophecy of something
and suddenly his face was calm
while he called me over for a chat
and I ordered a bottle of brandy for him
and another Hunters Gold for me.
He complained that the times were cruel
with one hand motioning to his missing legs
that he had lost in a train crash
and complained about Afrikaners
ignoring each other
and only living for themselves
while the nation is being led astray
and then suddenly said but my boy,
you know this,
have experienced it yourself
as a learned man without a job
but let me tell you something
about days long gone
even before the Boer war
(where the British killed
women and children in concentration camps) ,
many Afrikaner farmers
were executed at Slagtersnek
and it had been a terrible, terrible time
and then that holy Englishman John Phillip
meddled in our affairs
and now he haunts us again
peering in at the window panes
and I shook my head, did not understanding
exactly what the old man said
and heard something about
English people being in cahoots
with the current government
and ladies ruling as bosses
while educated Afrikaner men are jobless
and he swayed on his stool
and I rose to steady him
when he said to pour more brandy with ice
and complained that now nobody
is keeping the impis at bay
and pointed a finger at me
and I thought that he said
but you will do, or maybe
you haven’t got a clue
and leaning forward
strangely his breath was clear
and I heard him stuttering something
sounding like even uncle Paul
in church square knows
that soon all Afrikaner men
will be poor
and I said to him:
“My man we already are
with the new black regime,
but most Afrikaners
just do not realise it yet.”
He smiled at me then
and steadily held his glass, in a final salute
brought it to his lips
and faded into the naught
de-materializing in front of me.
[Reference: Kobus Le Grange Marais by Christopher Hope.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bring On The Lucie
-"alright, boys, this is it, over the hill!"
We don't care what flag you're waving,
We don't even want to know your name.
We don't care where you're from or where you're going,
All we know it that you came.
Your making all our decisions,
We have just one request of you,
That while you're thinking things over,
Here's something you just better do.
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
Well, we were caught with our hands in the air,
Don't despair, paranoia's ev'rywhere.
We can shake it with love when we're scared,
So let's shout it aloud like a prayer.
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
We understand your paranoia,
But we don't wanna play your game.
You think you're cool and know what you're doing,
666 is your name.
So while you jerking off each other,
You better bear this in mind;
Your time is up, you better know it,
But maybe you don't read the signs.
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it (do it) now.
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
Well, you were caught with your hands in the kill,
And you still gotta swallow your pill,
As you slip and you slide down the hill
On the blood of the people you killed.
Stop the killing!
(free the people now) (do it, do it)
Do! (do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now)
(do it, do it, do it)
Stop the killing!
(free the people now) (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Stop the killing!
(free the people now) (do it, do it, do it, do it)
(do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now)
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Stop the killing!
(free the people now) (do it, do it, do it, do it)
(do it, do it) do it, do it, do it.
Bring on the lucie!
(free the people now) (do it, do it, do it)
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bring On The Lucie
-"alright, boys, this is it, over the hill!"
We don't care what flag you're waving,
We don't even want to know your name.
We don't care where you're from or where you're going,
All we know it that you came.
Your making all our decisions,
We have just one request of you,
That while you're thinking things over,
Here's something you just better do.
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
Well, we were caught with our hands in the air,
Don't despair, paranoia's ev'rywhere.
We can shake it with love when we're scared,
So let's shout it aloud like a prayer.
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
We understand your paranoia,
But we don't wanna play your game.
You think you're cool and know what you're doing,
666 is your name.
So while you jerking off each other,
You better bear this in mind;
Your time is up, you better know it,
But maybe you don't read the signs.
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it (do it) now.
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Free the people now, (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
Well, you were caught with your hands in the kill,
And you still gotta swallow your pill,
As you slip and you slide down the hill
On the blood of the people you killed.
Stop the killing!
(free the people now) (do it, do it)
Do! (do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now)
(do it, do it, do it)
Stop the killing!
(free the people now) (do it, do it, do it, do it)
Do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now.
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Stop the killing!
(free the people now) (do it, do it, do it, do it)
(do it, do it, do it, do it, do it now)
(do it, do it, do it, do it)
Stop the killing!
(free the people now) (do it, do it, do it, do it)
(do it, do it) do it, do it, do it.
Bring on the lucie!
(free the people now) (do it, do it, do it)
song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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God of our fathers
With their eyes set on the distance
our fathers
trekked into their promised land
as children of the God
of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
After the murders on Piet Retief and his men
our fathers made a holy covenant
with the almighty God
to rescue them in their laager at Blood River
against a very big army
of about twenty thousand Zulus.
With their victory
they did not go forth
to wipe out every single Zulu,
rather with the Bible in the hand
they wanted to teach
other people about God.
When the Xhosas slaughtered
almost all their livestock,
were burning their own harvests
believing the medium Nonqawuse
that ancestral spirits
will rise to wipe out the white man
and thousands of them
were dying from starvation
our fathers reached out their hands
and in neighbourly love gave food to those people,
doing what they could
to try and save them.
When droughts, illness of the livestock,
locusts were ravaging, even when the British Empire
came to take the mineral treasures,
were burning down farms and towns,
were murdering women and children
in concentration camps
our fathers went on their knees,
placing their destiny in the hands
of the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob
knowing that his shadow was falling over them,
that He keeps account
was folding His Godly hand over them
l’Envoi
and now that thousands of farmers
are being killed on their farms
are being tortured, murdered and robbed
Afrikaners with qualifications
and experience, even artisans
are unemployed on the street,
people in cities
are hijacked, robbed and raped
I am praying to the God
of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
to keep His hand over us,
to draws His laager
around the lives and property
of everyone that comes to Him,
to free us from this oppression.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In front of a firing squad
Japie almost burns himself
when he mess some coffee
and it’s still dark,
when at four o’clock one morning
British soldiers arrive
at the Greyling’s farm.
There’s an Afrikaner farm boy
standing against the wall
of a farm house
and English Captain Jack Seeley,
wants to know to where
his father’s Boer commando is going?
Japie Greyling refuses
to say anything about it
and Jack Seeley
order his men,
to aim at an Afrikaner boy.
Six British Martini Henri rifles
are pointed at a ten year old child
and he hears gunlock after gunlock
closing behind a bullet.
I ask you a last time
says the relentless Englishman
and a Boer boy
looks into death,
but still there’s nothing
that he lets out about his people
The British Captain keeps
walking nervously up and down
and the blue eyes
of a Boer boy,
cuts right through him
and the child says
let death then come,
but talk I wont.
All the British soldiers
are astounded by the courage
that comes from an Afrikaner child
and on command,
the rifles are lowered
before they ride away
and Japie Greyling
is left alive.
[References: Historic heroic story of Japie (Jacobus Johannes Cornelis) Greyling during the second Anglo-Boer war. The poem “Japie Greyling” by J.F.E Celliers. The book “Fear and Be Slain” by Jack Seeley.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lotus land
I.
There are no more oxen
to tread through the dust,
not even those of A.G. Visser
or Jan F.E. Cilliers
because they have died long ago
or are eaten
by Afrikaners as steak
and there’s no wagon
to be drawn,
because every chariot has its own power
and its own beauty too.
II.
Fast the kilometres rush past
and marsh and meadow
are driven through before sunrise
and if you leave at dawn
you can reach the Cape before dusk
and we are already living in a languid country
where the sauce train
comes and get many people
while the others
still have to pay tax.
Some sit without education in offices
passing the hours on their chairs
while they do not know how to work
or to do a task
and are just waiting for their wage
or to talk on the phone
III.
The rich get richer
while white men
that can work and have university education,
are jobless
and women now try to do their thing.
The ignorant becomes bosses
that only knows how to cringe
and by black economic empowerment
and affirmative action
uneducated get big salaries
while the country slides backwards.
IV.
Wanderers even come from other countries
and just where they can
they squat.
At every traffic light people stand and beg
and do not know
how to work
and with coins and rands
that everybody give in pity
this evil is strengthened.
V.
Caning is gone out of the schools
and most children do not know
respect anymore
and do not know how to learn
or to honour their parents
and I wonder what have become of my people
and where our country is going
and if everything is rushing to the end?
[References: “Lotus-Land” by A.G. Visser and “Die Ossewa” by Jan F.E. Celliers.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Innocent White Civilian People Were Slaughtered (In Answer To Don Mattera)
Innocent white civilian people were once walking
on Church Street in Pretoria; they were men,
women and children
busy with their daily lives,
some just having gone shopping,
some meeting a loved one in a restaurant
others returning from school
and they were doing nobody any harm.
By orders of Nelson Rolilahla Dalinbunga Mandela,
without any kind of alarm or warning,
a car bomb was set and exploded thundering
throwing shrapnel, making glass fall like rain
and black people took pride
at the sheer slaughter, at the falling,
the maiming, the decimating and dying of innocents
and that day remains a bitter thing.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Painful thoughts
Like a lightning
striking from a azure blue sky
and hitting where nobody expects it,
is the pain
when a Afrikaner hand
hits another Afrikaner down.
The bullet that bursts through Jopie Fourie
nobody can stop
and still that shot rings out
and are deafening.
How is a great Commandant General honoured
who for a day was President
of the Orange Free State
and taught the British a thing or two
about warfare?
How many women had to suffer anguish
and chained themselves
to free Christiaan De Wet
out of a nation’s
own prison
and his people
that buys his freedom
will forever stay with me.
By himself Jan Smuts changed
from a Boer hero,
to somebody
that lifts his hand against his own
to get worldly fame
and for his own benefit.
Today I wonder
where you and I
stand in these things?
How easy it has become with affirmative action
and BEE
to destroy the careers
of innocent Afrikaner men
and to push their life’s
on the rubbish dump
and I wonder how many Afrikaner women,
sit in the front chairs
while Afrikaner men
are praying to find a job?
It cuts like an unknown pain through me
and I wonder when merit
will again find a place
as a measure of fairness
and I see that my people are torn apart
and own benefit
is leading before integrity
and I wonder what are my people becoming?
[Reference: Jopie by: Jan F.E. Celliers. BEE=> Black Economic Empowerment.]
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I like black people
I like black people, black people are pretty cool.
But the way they used to be treated was very cruel.
They couldn't eat in restaurants and they had to ride in the back of the bus.
White people should've treated black people the way they treated us.
It's nice to know that black people have come a long way.
Now it's possible that a black man may be the President of the USA.
poem by Randy Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What's In It For Me?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE TIME FOR TWITTER AND FACEBOOK, BUT NONE FOR THEMSELVES OR OTHERS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE HAVE A HUNDRED 'FRIENDS' ON FACEBOOK,
BUT NOT EVEN TEN IN REAL LIFE
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE EMOTE WITH EMOTICONS BUT NOT WITH THEIR FACES,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE PREFER TO WRITE 'LOL' RATHER THAN ACTUALLY LAUGHING OUT LOUD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR COMPUTER MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LIVE THEIR LIVES MORE ONLINE THAN OFF IT,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN SPOT THE ERROR IN SOMEONE'S TYPING BUT CANNOT SPOT A TEAR IN A FRIEND'S EYE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE CAN GROW ANY CROP ONLINE BUT CANNOT EVEN PICK UP A SPADE IN REAL LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE RELISH THE FOOD AT MCDONALDS AND DOMINOS, BUT CRIB OVER HOME COOKED FOOD,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE ARE READY TO KILL FOR A FEW SHREDS OF PAPER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE KILL IN THE NAME OF RELIGION,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE A MAN IS READY TO KILL HIS BROTHER OVER PROPERTY AND MONEY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF MONEY IS MORE THAN THE VALUE OF LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE LIVING A LIFE IS TOUGHER THAN KILLING A LIFE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE IT'S EASIER TO EARN MONEY BY CHEATING THAN BY WORKING HONESTLY,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE VALUE OF A GIFT IS THROUGH ITS PRICE AND NOT ITS EMOTIONS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THE MEASURE OF A MAN IS THROUGH HIS CAR AND HOUSE RATHER THAN HIS CHARACTER,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE LOVE THEIR POSSESSIONS MORE THAN THEIR FRIENDS AND PARENTS,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE THINGS ARE LOVED AND PEOPLE ARE USED,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD WHERE PEOPLE DO ANYTHING FOR A BETTER PAY BUT NOTHING FOR A BETTER CONSCIENCE,
EVEN IF I WIN THIS WORLD WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
THE WORLD IS BAD AND I KNOW THAT BUT SILL IF I WIN THIS WORLD,
WHAT'S IN IT FOR ME?
poem by Deepak Hariharan
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Two Different People
Two different people
Black people, white people
Black world, White world
A black person thinks different from the white people
White people thinks highly of himself
White people works very hard for his living
Black's are lazy
They don't want to work, they just want the money
You have to work for the money, they just don't get it
White people knows that there are no free ride in life
Black's want a free ride, there are no free ride in life
Nothing is free in life except for the air that you breathe
The white people have to be careful of what they say to the black People
Whatever you say to the black people if they don't like it they will say it Is discrimination
We can't understand them
They have a mind of their own
The white people are loving and caring
What about the black people?
Not a hope in hell
I don't want any part of the black world
The black world is not safe for me
So I rather stay in my white world where I feel safe
We can't trust them
The reason why there is violence in this world is because the black People cause it
Now they don't like it because they have to live with it
We want a safe world for our people
The black people don't care about it because the only thing they know And seen is violence
There is too much violence on TV
They like it
They like the feeling of danger
We white don't like the feeling of danger
The blacks hate the white people and the white people don't like them Either
The white people knows when to shut up
The black people never knows when to shut up
There is why there are always problem with them
They make life miserable for us
The white people will always be a good friend
The black people can never be your friend
They will take everything they can get from you for free
poem by Aldo Kraas
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It Better End Soon - 4th
Can't stand it no more
The people dying
Crying for help for so many years
But nobody hears
Better end soon my friend
It better end soon my friend
Can't take it no more
The people hating
Hurting their brothers
They don't understand
They can't understand
Better end soon my friend
It better end soon
Hey, everybody
Won't you just look around
Can't anybody see?
Just what's going down
Can't you take the time?
Just to feel
Just to feel what is real
If you do
Then you'll see that we got a raw deal
They're killing everybody
I wish it weren't true
They say we got to make war
Or the economy will fall
But if we don't stop
We won't be around no more
They're ruining this world
For you and me
The big heads of state
Won't let us be free
They made the rules once
But it didn't work out
Now we must try again
Before they kill us off
No more dying!
No more killing
No more dying
No more fighting
We don't want to die
No, we don't want to die
Please let's change it all
Please let's make it all
Good for the present
And better for the future
Let's just love one another
Let's show peace for each other
We can make it happen
Let's just make it happen
We can change this world
Please let's change this world
Please let's make it happen for our children
For our women
Change the world
Please make it happen
Come on
Come on
Please
Come on
It's up to me
It's up to you
So let's do it now
Yeah
Do it now
Can't stand it no more
The people cheating
Burning each other
They know it ain't right
How can it be right
Better end soon my friend
It better end soon my friend
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lost In A Lost World
I woke today, I was crying
Lost in a lost world
So many people are dying
Lost in a lost world
Some of them are living an illusion
Bounded by the darkness of their minds
In their eyes its nation, against nation, against nation
With racial pride
Sounds...
Thinking only of themselves
They shun the light
(shun the light)
They think theyre right
(think theyre right)
Living in their empty shells
Oh, can you see their bodies thrashing
(so many people, so many people)
Crashing down around their feet
Angry people in the street
Telling them theyve had their fill
Of politics, people who kill
Grow... the seed of evolution
(so many people, so many people)
Revolution everyone
Its just another form of gun
To do again what they have done
Let all our brothers come and get some
(so many people, so many people)
Everywhere you go you see them searching
Everywhere you turn you feel the pain
Everyone is looking for the answers
Well look again, come on my friend
Love will find us in the end
Come on my friend
(on my friend)
Weve got to bend
(got to bend)
Down on our knees and say a prayer
Oh, can you see the world is pining
(so many people, so many people)
Pining for someone who really cares enough to share his love
With all of us so we can be
An ever loving family
Have we forgotten who loves who
(so many people, so many people)
Children from a family tree
Thats longer than a centipede
Started long ago when you and i
Where only love....
(so many people, so many people)
I woke today, I was crying
Lost in a lost world
So many people are dying
Lost in a lost world
So many people, so many people
People lost in a lost world
So many people, so many people
People lost in a lost world
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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