Do not touch my country, a poem by Reginold Ajay Jacob, India

For you, life does not matter,

You have killed your own sons,

For us, life is a gift of God,

Every soldier is like my son.

You killed your sons at Tiananmen Square.

To save your Communist rule,

Those children were someone's hope,

You crushed millions of lives.

Surely they were not your sons,

Or you wouldn't have been merciless,

You are a crack dictator,

You are bound to be merciless.

Do not touch my country,

You are trying to meet demise,

Your pitcher of lies is up to the brim,

One more sin and you meet demise.

I love my Country

Thank you Jesus, for democracy,
Thank you for we live in a free land,
Where freedom is in the air,
Where we as equals can stand.

What beautiful pride I have,
When I look at my country for sure,
We are a democracy, and
I love this fact for shure.

May your grace continue,
On this my motherland,
For we have freedom of speech,
While many countries lack.

I love my motherland,
I hope you too have that pride,
If it is true with you,
Then let's proclaim it worldwide.

R.A.Jacob© December 27,2018