GREENLAND
You were named
to seduce hope.
Erik the Red
sold you with a lie.
Green land
for frozen bones.
Once unwanted.
Now desired.
Not for love.
For power.
Not for people.
For position.
America looks at you
with hungry eyes.
Not with respect.
With appetite.
But land
is not meat.
And nations
are not for sale.
You belong
to your people.
To your history.
To your scars.
Colonialism, they said,
was buried.
But greed
does not die.
It only
changes flags.
Gandhi warned us:
Need is human.
Greed is a curse.
When resources shrink,
brothers become enemies.
And friendship
turns into strategy.
America,
you were meant
to be a guide.
But you stagger
like a drunk father—
loud, lost,
and dangerous.
Europe,
do not sleep
inside borrowed safety.
The one who guards you
today
may test you
tomorrow.
Power never loves.
It calculates.
And history has taught us:
When empires hunger,
even brothers
become prey.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
