Clawjob:Reservations

I grant that you may feel upset.
I can see contempt in your wild eyes.
But what's been taken must be kept,
And you will be swept from your violent lives.

I know it's for the best.
You'll keep a little west, and we'll take the rest.
Maybe I'm an optimist, or just a pacifist, but I insist.

We all deserve a place to call our home, even you.
So we've reserved a space where you can go.
You and everyone you know.

I admit you may feel pain, in an undeveloped way,
In your savage hearts.
But all across this fruited plain, great men will sow their grain,
As soon as you depart.

Surely in your current state, you can't appreciate
The offer on your plate.
I come to you with gift in hand:
Your own unspoiled land,
A place precisely planned.
I hear the soil's grand.

You see I understand that we all deserve a place to call our home.
Even you.
So we've reserved a space where you can go.
You and everyone you know.