Die for us
The brave people
my birthday
Like sweet girlfriends
Do not celebrate
Or do not celebrate any other way
Waiting for that
We will all be one,
To our limitations
Reaching
Ironically, the irony was broken
That's what they said
He and I did not hear you.
All people including Missile Focco
With your wax hands
Written with blood on paper
Rubbish
Much different from that we read
Say more
So we were taught forcibly
So that we can sit on the forefront of the class
And every month our Garzian
In the office
Can tell greatness to the principal.
How to get freedom
Who got
And how much
These things go in to us
Sparking in a very different sense and this is the last thing
You will impose on me
That's what I said.
Just like that
Red signatures from those bloods
And given in history
To the most white witnesses
We do not understand,
after this
Drinking tea
Keep the cup above the Upanishad
Listening to songs
Keep earphones on bible
And want to tell the world
That
We
Learned the meaning of freedom.
- Brijmohan Swami
© Copyright
11/07/2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I ike your poem, it triggers deep emotions!