For long he aged in the cage,
And gaze at the gate,
Forcedly he quivered at it,
But the steel remain still.
The worms in his belly torments him,
It strucks in ticktock painfully,
His throat was dried,
His skin melted with bone, no drip on intestines,
He suffered behind the bar, hair turns white,
Yelling all nights, even cry feared his cry,
Difficulties in captivity of oppressor,
He grumbled and rant for freedom.
Unheralded immunity came on this day,
The jurist of himself, deciding self fate,
Rewrite destiny!
To be, only what chosen to be.
The ball wallow in his court,
Being the architect of his own future,
To feed!
Or to be free?
Oh what hungry freedom fighter!
Misplaced priority at peek,
Worms in belly he feeds,
Forsaken liberty.
Sinking the ship of needs,
Misplaced priority indeed!
What a struggle for stomach,
Behind the bar forever.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem