Untitled poems.
My days filled with the voices do not vibrate like yesterday ….
vibration is becoming more and more faint … slow
vibration was weak and quit
such as pulse inexperienced children
not heard them by the frictionless wind
If democracy is a beautiful title for a nation
then my people want to use it well
willingly sacrifice their lives or with a message
they are both bleeding and even lost by the thirsty soil
food juices flow freedom never arrived
spread throughout the body
stopped them between sheets of paper stamped
Sorry if my life is a democracy
appears he had no title again
sometimes I find it very valuable and want to live
like shakespeare soul
but sometimes I find no value
who encouraged me to end life
The object of my affection is dead
with the title of the writings on democracy are increasingly blurred
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