About how many immigrants God made

Cut off from land by wiles of tricky sea,
For Norfolk is deceptive in its tides,
He grabbed my hand and said, just  run with me

If we had drowned then now I would not be
In England  where   shrill voiced  voters  stride,
Cut off by hopes  installed with trickery

Nor would I, by Donald vexed, see
How he may ask the Good Lord to abide
He grabbed the votes and said, all  lie with me

We would not argue over Ceylon Tea
About how many immigrants God made;
Cut off from  thought by wiles of trickery

I believe  that God  has no pity
He  created man  to be a refugee
He gave no hope yet said,  hey, worship me!

Oh, haunt of mystics send  thy remedies
They’re drowning in the places we can’t see
Cut off from land by tides of  your  Son’s sea
The dark eyed children drown along with Thee.

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About Katherine

I like poetry and history.I love literature and music.
This entry was posted in Thinkings and poems. Bookmark the permalink.

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