Poetic Justice

As you probably already know, it has been about 40 days since I arrived here in the United States of Americaland. So what have I learnt? Well, I have found that there are many things to hate about the U.S. I don't like what they call coffee, or food. I don't like the weather, and I'd rather have a vasectomy then live here. But are things any better back home? Well, I had some time to think about it, so I have written a poem about Malaysia. Forgive me in advance for the bad language, I needed sentences that rhymed, and I only had a day to work on it so, here goes:

My ode to the motherland


I was born here in a hospital,
I have lived here, in the capitol.

Kuala Lumpur is the place,
Where lies many tales.
A city of shopping,
A city of sales.

Shopping malls are everywhere,
Shopping's more then a phase.
You dress funny, people'll stare,
If they can see you through the haze.

The smoke chokes us, from the mountains to the sea,
"Whose to blame?" we ask, "Indonesia!" they say,
While local plantation companies say "Not me!",
For now, we may never see a clear blue day.

Traffic police booking, speeding cameras flashing,
Duck into the bus lane when nobody's looking.

Youngsters drive stupidly, thinking its funny.
While the rest of us drive slowly, In our old Nissan Sunny.

Still, its a safe country, But should you die, you are cremated.
Not by your loved ones, But by a law, deluded.

Freedom of speech is a gray topic,
For a population with many blogs.
Complaining about politics,
While the country's going to the dogs.

Property laws are strict,
Tearing down add-ons without registration.
Unless you are a State Counsellor,
Then all you'll get is a light damnation.

You pay taxes and what do you get?
Corrupt policemen and politicians, both in one set.

Women blamed for getting raped,
For wearing an overly seductive hat.
While the rapist walks free,
How f**ked up is that?

Local students dyeing their hair,
Orange! Green! anything but black.
More colours then the rainbow,
What's up with that?

We have satellite TV and that's out of sight!
But is all owned by one man, and that's just not right.

We have our own factories, our own motor industry,
Whose products are cheap, with handling like a rattan basket.
Who would buy them? Who indeed? We will,
While the noose is being tightened by a protectionist market.

People complaining they don't have prime homes,
People who don't work, asking for more,
While you and me, the taxpayers pay more and more,
How can we not feel sore?

A proud nation! A powerful nation!
Nobody thinks so but a true Malaysian.

We don't have bird flu, and that's not too bad,
But we do have dengue, and that's just so sad.

To those who are new,
Who are making this your home.
Shut up and listen!
Please consider this tome.

Singapore is the greatest, Singapore's the best.
From Changi in the east, to Tuas in the west.

Go there instead, and leave us alone.
We're crap, we know it. We stink to the bone.
The country is wounded, not all is well,
The bandage is failing, its starting to swell.

But I have no complaints, disconsider this poem.
For all of its faults, it still is my home.

Malaysia.