Paradise is not all it seems.
There are limits in who breathes its breeze.
These buildings don't belong here;
A few tourists don't see our fear.
The beach limited by who perceives
Beyond the walls that block Natives
From Palm Trees.
There's Anguish in the news due to all the blood spewed.
Those with power languish for dollars by the hour.
Young adults' lives are limited by the law's curfew.
A young poet seeks to dominate a language's valor.
No hopes or aspirations for a nation without jobs.
One that cuts funding to education for rich cowards.
The Third-World pleads for a piece of food rations,
Yet inequality threatens peace through provocation.
It is unknown to where the world shall head.
History's library shows a pile of dead.
The fact that humans permitted this dread
Incites me to fear what lies ahead.
Comments about this poem (Paradise by Edwin Cordero )
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