The sky is the poet page,
We are the poem.
The attribute of rhymes,
Combined into rhythm,
Differentiated into two folk
called the folksy,
Which are the peerage who do good deeds,
And the bad peerage who do evil deeds.
We commit, hence it makes us the sinner
Reconciliation into repentance make us the pure soul.
Family are like tree
It take time to grow,
But developed in bulks.
It's like a rain, it falls in unit
But enlarge in ocean.
We are one, despite the color nor religion.
NO rebellion, no nonentity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem