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I see them,
Walking along the hem,
Of our paved roads,
In droves and hordes,
Richly garbed in caftans,
Outstretched cups and pans,
Faces garbed in sadness,
Attires shouting happiness.
They come,
Slithering like worms,
From up north,
Bringing little of worth!
So they urge us all,
To bring out our all,
Whet their palates,
And fill their cavernous plates.
Their attires tell,
A tale we know well:
They are the dregs
From northern wine kegs.
Driven out by laziness,
And pushed by their greediness,
To feed on our essence,
Our meager existence!
Yet, we shall not refuse,
Nor treat them like refuse,
As they really are,
For they walked really far!
meet the poet: Chikatito Jones
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