Yemen

Yemen It is awful poor country, with little to offer but carrots and sand. Come to think about it very few carrots only brush land and dust. People cry freedom but no one listens. A tiny place in the corner of nowhere, mud huts and stones... no oil to lift a jaded spirit. Chew a sort of weed that that lulls souls into stupor and bring temporary peace. Yet they go on fighting tyranny despite being ignored by us, we who must be selective in whom to defend. They want to be free in a land where no roses bloom knowing they have little to offer other, sand and stones and a longing to be rid of tyranny. Help us they cry to the sky, but the world is full of carrots, dry sticks. Love of once country is an odd thing it can be full of scorpions and deadly snakes but it is the land of their fathers they have seen it bathed in a golden hue at sunset and they remember its hidden beauty.