Bebaskan!

Frees!

Poem T. Wijaya

My poor bodys. Always is calculated, and feared tells the bad army.

We always is beated finite of handicap foetus. Only can whisper, and if finding hammer. Beats foot, hand, head, chest. Until blood and theft burns my bodys.

My poor bodys. Looks for God, and always is catched. Affronted as prostitute.

Though praying and sharing kindness.

My poor bodys. Leaved after touched. Bes in love without its morrow breakfast.

Frees! But doesn't depart from Indonesia.

Enters my poor bodys. Finds God to speak from bloods full of hunger opium.

Frees! But doesn't depart from Indonesia.

Dance with world music, what gets through sea, desert, pole, and forests remains.

My poor bodys. Always is underestimated, and taked upon to say steals that eases.

2009

Music SYMPHONY OF DREAMS by KITARO

Category:

Entertainment

Tags:

• Poem

[pili2255]

Excellent!

Gaby.

[ezseeker]

Is freedom of any kind a reality or a dream?

Easy

[DRU131]

Thanks for sharing this,beautifull.

[Nusantaraku]

I liked the video presentation...very fresh along with the sad words...thanks musimengalir for the video. ~NH

[CindyPeress]

Beautifully done. Very sad poem...

[dashpoet]

Beautifully fitting dance routine, washed with feeling.

[DavidRandallCurtis]

Very cool... 5*