
My people, The Afghans
Struggle we struggle, with struggle we survive
Many have died, but thankfully more are alive
Knives, guns and lies with the help off there spies
They hope to bring our demise
For we are short in numbers and short in size
Everyday when we wake up, all we hear are cries

Struggle is a way of life, we struggle to survive
They arrive in fleets, they butcher us as they see us as piece off meats
But little do they realise this is a land that has never been invaded
For we have always faught back those who have raided
We are the lions of Asia, many off us come from Persia
Struggle is a way off living, thankfully due to that many off us are breathing.
But suffering....

"Spare us a shilling" we say, for forever we must pray to see tomorrow and today
Never the less our children smile in the tears off War and play
For grateful they are even as there dead lay
As we say "At least I have enough to live for today"...

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I wrote this a while ago, considering I am Pashtun myself it was important to highlight the struggle of my people.
The Pashtuns are people of European-Persian descent and are ancestors of Israelis (Though don't mistake us for Jews, almost every Pashtun is Muslim), they originate and live in South Afghanistan and the border to Pakistan. Most Pashtuns are very poor people but then again decades of War with the Soviets and now Americans and the Europeans would do that to any country and people thus me writing this poem.