English Poem by Gamaliel Scipio

Still bent on
calling it English

Just look at what
We have done with it

The same language
of which, so many
are now trying

To call their own

One such, that we
have done

Is to create new
words

While knowing that
there is nothing new

Under the English
Sun

We keep demonizing
that language,

With the addition
of mysteries

Making it, so much
more difficult,
to understand

A far cry from the
legendary language

That it truly is

Though born out of
confusion

It boasts legendary
attraction

A master of history

Turned into something

Many are able to twist
and turn

Even while they see
English

As now being a painful
language to learn

With words filled with
fire

Presently, for one to
speak English

he or she is expected,
to end up with tongues
that burn.