I write poor poetry 'cause my planet is poor.
Blame not that subject plus object whose name is wrongdoer
what else can we do 'part from draggin' our carcasses
in this universe, which roughed up our purposes?
Our hate is pure love for humanity
isolated and moulded by lords.
Our life is the struggle for verity,
to live with just sweet major chords.
Written by: Davide Ferri
24 April, 2012