This poem is about a tribe called Jarawa who face the danger of extinction. This is because of the Great Andaman Trunk Road, which was built through their forest land in the 1970's. From then onwards they've faced great hardship due to widespread poaching, encroachment and commercial exploitation of their land which is of no benefit to them. To read further about what dangers they face read this article: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jarawa_people_(Andaman_Islands)
Here's my poem:
The road cuts through their land;
their forests were cut to level it,
driving all the animals away.
Now where do they go for fruit and meat
on an island so isolated from the modern world?
Stripping off their dignity and
dancing to the tunes of corrupt intruders:
demeaning begging is what they've come to.
The scrounge of modernity hasn't left them alone.
Curse the modern world!