That we don’t trust you in the least
Needs to be told in the dearest terms.
You rejoiced, to your heart’s content in our weaknesses?
Don’t you mind in the least that we’ve been oppressed?
Our life’s a short lyric of pity,
You aren’t inclined in the least to listen to it.
What our forefathers and we got is essentially tragic;
And what remains is equally tragic.
You be happy with your so called eminence.
But that your symbolic flags are converted
To sticks at your convenient moment.
That isn’t befitting.
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