In this land
ruled by the kings of iron fists,
Where child demands
& man commands,
This sad land,
where women always obey,
Where the ancients
are sorely missed by all,
And cowering pup
is whipped & sadly yelps,
This land where
over-worked donkeys bray,
Where nobody offers
a hand to help the soul,
Where widow in
mantilla kneels on bent knee,
And everyone prays
to a God they cannot see,
This land where
money yells in empty pockets,
Where the banker
rules & the beggar drools,
And in bloody
sand, tortured bulls sadly weep,
This brilliant
land, of hot, searing, scorching sun,
Where the burning
is of brains & sorry hearts,
Where grasping
hands clasp & slowly tear apart.
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