Shabby dress, stuck to your body jet
Melancholy eyes, your life weighed intimated
Wrinkled skin, lay out your old age
Dragging your feet stepped on a dry black tar
Grounded ditali black plastic above the ankle
Turned into every home
No matter how hot the sun is absorbed through your pores slit
Only by collecting pennies
To just fill your stomach
already mengkriput
attached to the bones
When it rains,
black plastic to cover your head at your feet
Indeed, these tears drip
every time I see you
Still eager to maintain life
Chest pounding, shortness of
Sore throat,
withstand the pain that you experience
When you're out of sight
Imagine you are imprinted on my brain
When I kneel, kneeling in front of his
Only ever spoken gratitude
There are still people who are heavier life
than live as we live
And in small hearts, each saw the same thing,
always arises the question:
"Where are the children?"
And re-look into the self,
"I was a child. I do not want my parents to be like that someday."
Friday 11 May 2012
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