Bound through the doors of my sweet prison
Not a condemned place yet but a fool's heaven
Study til my eyes bleed tears of question
No cause behind but the need is there
Pot of soup filled with accepted varieties
Segragate the peas from the string beans and carrots
Slop of a meal but accepted by those widespread
Bite the tongue as a voice from above rules life
Lies encircle the ears of society's concern
Self is all wished upon with the power of freedom
What to do with a future so bright and blinding?
Wear sun glasses and pray to breathe the last before election
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem