To The Country We Belong

Those who talk of my Country have surely got it wrong
We do not own the Country to the Country we belong
One should not be seen as privileged by birth or by birth place
The sharp scythe of the reaper makes equal every race
The Land was and always will be here of which we already know
And we are like Nature's Seasons to life we come and go
We must return to Nature likes the leaves of the deciduous tree
Death is for every life form as well as for you and me
We do not own the Country despite what some might say
Since we are also life forms we live from day to day
We've been learning how to survive before we learned how to crawl
'Til to the sharp scythe of the reaper we eventually do fall
Those who talk of My Country with their words do like to play
Since the Country is forever and we must die one day.