Men smoke hand made cigars bitter and sweet
The smell lingers in the air ,then carried off by the wind,
Generation after generation and still nothing has changed
It is like they are in a time warp, not in the future, but pondering on the past,
Moving camp day by day, week by week
Only settting their yurts when night falls,
Meeting only with nomadic tribes for weddings and parties
I love to watch them get together and tell adventurous tales ,
Children play football with a goats bladder to pass time
Sometimes they play hockey on horses as well.
Who am I ?
I am being invaded ,no longer all alone
Coke cans and cigarette butts now litter my floor ,
Motor cycles and cars zoom around destroying the peace
Music blares and empty bottles are thrown out to be forgotten,
Tourists arrive in buses snapping photos of my nakedness
Talking on phones and leaving their footprints,
Huge white silver birds soar over me ,a sight I have never seen before
They go faster then horses ,intimidating me with their noise and smoke trail ,
My Saxual forest is disappearing , replaced by houses
And Solar panels dress my naked body ,
My land is going ,being replaced by humanity
Soon I will become a major city and the past will be lost,
No one will care about my history
Or shed a tear that I am gone ,
I fight back with all my might
I strike terror into their hearts ,
I am unstoppable ,untamable and uncontrollable
Perhaps I will survive
Who am I?
