Sown seeds are not weeds

Imperialist nations of the past,

Lay claims to others lands,

To steal the gold from the hills,

And iron from the sands.

Time passes, they created classes,

Squeezed those nations dry,

Economy has crashed, lives trashed,

People left to die.

Time keeps passing,

Not much changes for the exploited,

So they now leave with their rights,

To the relative land they appointed.

But they are as welcome as those imperialists,

Who arrived to steal their land before,

Not welcome is the feeling they get,

As they arrive before the door.

The same arrogance of imperialism,

Though now haunted by passed deeds,

Must now face up to the fact,

Their harvest of sown seeds.