To be in a place unfamiliar to you.
Holds and restrictions from out of the blue.
Where honour and strength are taken away.
A place where the captors games come into play.
They control and abuse
and make you comply.
Trying to catch you out in a lie
with their many trick questions
to answers only they want to hear.
Slowly instilling doubt and fear.
It's a game of power
made up by those in control,
who want to own you, body and soul.
Then they say we live in a democracy?
What a load of hypocracy.
As they look down from their towers
for someone to beat.
There he stands.
The common man on the street.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We have the power to change them every four or five years, but all the politicians behave the same manner, we, the ordinary common people, are either in the pan or in the fire...