Politico-Bangladesh

O,beloved mother
What sons are we?
Begotten of your soil!
Coward,gluttonous,greedy beast.
We are devoid of spirit that
Drives to deep goodness.
We are 'hollow man'
'Our headpiece filled with straws.'
We are not fit for anything
We are a box of nothing!
Your beloved heart is ravished
Ravished and raped by the interlopers.
We are playing chess with them.
We have lost our heroism
Bravery is a rare thing to found.
Crazy men are caged
Beautiful woman had to
Come outside from their hearth
To rule our unmanly man.