A Proud Country With Too Many Charities
Poverty remains ubiquitous and rampant,
Inside a country with so many charities.
Young teenagers are parading with no panties,
And a young overwhelmed government,
Who is fighting corruption within,
Like an infested piece of uncooked steak left
Dying in the sun; it is a well-orchestrated theft
That’s no one accepts, it’s is a strange sin
That the gods will not forgive.
A country, with humongous glorious memories,
Can’t stand on its toes, it can only stay on its knees.
This is sad; everyone ought to be asked to leave,
Where so many are suffering in this heated labyrinth,
Where so many are praying and staying at great length,
Inside the corrupt sacristy, where priests are drunk,
And sisters, wearing bikinis, are witnessing players dunk
Freely. Life has never being so horrible for the peasants,
Who are over-exploited by unscrupulous merchants.
Only a wise King can alter the culture of this environment,
Only a pious Saint can save this weak government,
With so many opposing common sense, and obvious logics.
It is bad that so many foreigners fear to bring real logistics
To improve things for good. There are too many charities,
Who are eating raw plantains; too many are also dropping their panties.