Monday, August 27, 2007
#53: MY COUNTRY'S NO PARADISE,
MR. JACOBSON
It's not preposterous to say that we found
Paradise in your country.
-a tourist
Don't Mr. Jacobson,
Don't say you've found
Paradise in my country,
Because behind the scent of women
That put leis' round your neck,
The stinking smell of estuaries
Suffocate the people of Tondo;
Because behind the carpets and the chandeliers
That brought you to your comfortable room
There is merciless demolition
That haunt the people of Paranaque;
Because behind the banquets
That made you full,
Famine attacks Lupao;
Because behind the rondollas
That have brought you to the heavens
War kills the People of Sipalay ;
Because behind all the magazines
That have show you beautiful destinations,
The lash of the lack of books
Imprison the school children;
Because behind the choir of boys and girls
That has made you clap your heart out,
There is evil in foreign customers
That scar the children of Ermita ;
Because behind the expensive tablets
That made your fever go away,
There is epidemic of the common illness
That kills the children of my country;
Because behind the white beach
That made you tan,
There is the burden of the military bases
That deprive my country of freedom.
So don't Mr. Jacobson,
Don't call my country paradise
Until the root of injustice is gone.
Happy Nat'l Heroes Day.
it got me home
6:49 AM
