Resentment – a poem


Busloads of fat rich tourists
Unload and unload
In an endless stream,
In the land of
Poverty and dust,
Where each penny
Is precious.
In the land of minarets
And prayers
Where faith
Is the only hope
They have to believe.
But these tourists
Have no faith
And little hope
But plenty of pennies.
So they are catered for
And their every whim
Is addressed –
At a price.
Perhaps the price
Is resentment.

Opher 20.3.2019

While tourism is greatly needed as a source of income for people who have so little, it is not a something that is always an easy relationship.
Bringing rich foreigners, with all their hedonistic values, in contact with a poor populace who have a prescribed religious lifestyle is bound to create friction.
Sometimes the resentment is obvious.

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