Unlearn

Ours, it was ours and pure

Stupid doings that determines our lots

Yours, it ought to be yours for cure

Now our brains are intertwined in rots

Unlearn little soldiers with raised shoulders

Your spirituality is your business

Your ideas should come from boulders 

Now they cursed your color as mess

Unlearn their stories, embrace yours

Your forefathers were kings and queens

Your land prospers irrespective of the pours

Now they polluted your land for ruins

Unlearn blacksmiths, you started first

They stole your heritage and added colours

They renamed your findings for thirst

Now they beautify their lands with our vapours

Unlearn red capped man, 

You had business at heart better than Harvard

You had mastery to become money men

Now they charge you to watch their placards

Ours, it was ours and pure

Our Spirituality are undiluted

Our arts are genuine and sure

Our businesses are self-sufficient...