Cancun. 2003.
Same old sunrise.
Same old Negotiations.
Déjà vu.
The Colonials
huddle in the backbenches.
Former masters
haggle over trade
up front.
The rich sign a deal.
They sent it over to the poor.
They look at it.
Unfair. Too little.
As always.
Crumbs.
No cream.
They whisper.
No more.
Good deal,
or no deal.
Four of them
Form a gang.
A gang of brics.
A new sun will rise.
They will
cringe no more.
They send Twist
to the big ones.
“May we have more please?”
(brics: Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa; a group of five nations the US and EU consider most dangerous).
Same old sunrise.
Same old Negotiations.
Déjà vu.
The Colonials
huddle in the backbenches.
Former masters
haggle over trade
up front.
The rich sign a deal.
They sent it over to the poor.
They look at it.
Unfair. Too little.
As always.
Crumbs.
No cream.
They whisper.
No more.
Good deal,
or no deal.
Four of them
Form a gang.
A gang of brics.
A new sun will rise.
They will
cringe no more.
They send Twist
to the big ones.
“May we have more please?”
(brics: Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa; a group of five nations the US and EU consider most dangerous).
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