Sad and pale prepubescent countenance
has a long look of hunger and
a grimy agony in his eyes
round blacks that gleam afflicted by
the masked and unjust attacks
of a perverse and unforgiving life.
Painful punishment between greed and ambition
they only gave damn poverty spellbound by acts
of begging wolves and sheep that never shared
the bags of wheat and the silver coins of misery.
Thumbs mind never grew up for sinners
trapped in marked cadaverous bodies
deeply by envy and blinding selfishness
that stains eroded earth-colored skin with wrinkles
endless in the reflection of a sleeping mirror.
Violet-tinged sky full of vultures waiting
his mouthful of the resigned who helplessly
awaits the atrocious,
face wet with tears of divine supplications sigh
silently looking at the sky with a trembling body
exclaiming: - 'My God, what a bad thing we did! '
John F. Bisner Ureña.
Writer - Poet.
USA/ Costa Rica.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem