By Ron McVan
The self hating folk, they travel life blind,
Not a care for their nation, culture or kind.
Not a bond do they feel for their own blood kin,
On a roulette wheel to extinction they spin.
There’s a calling of the blood, ever strong as can be,
And its roots run deep through your ancestry,
And its leaves are its people, united as one,
On the World Ash Tree, neath a life giving sun!
Still the self hating folk, chart the ‘me’ centered quest,
Ignoring the wisdom, that Nature knows best!
Cut adrift in a sea of unfamiliar faces,
Looking for identity in all the wrong places!
Some day you may ponder, these words that I spoke,
When your spiritually bankrupt, empty and broke.
Or insist that your gods are just a big joke,
Trash your heroes and heritage, all in one stroke!
It will only reveal that you never awoke!
Chose to live in denial… as the self hating folk!
Source Article from http://www.renegadetribune.com/self-hating-folk/
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