The old man walks his long way to freedom,
or so says his book
and everywhere there is only hatred, resentment and tons of regret
there is a freedom that I am still searching for in my life
and in a house that is barred like a prison I have got to hide,
I have got to wait on armed reaction and not the police,
when freedom fighters wants to spend time in my life;
coming for their historically qualified enrichment
while the country about me falls to disrepair, becomes third worldly
when I and my family and friends are not free
and there is something terribly wrong with this freedom
while the new freedom comes to the meaning:
of robbery, rape, murder and torture
as things that this new freedom brings.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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