CTRL+ALT+DEL
A poem was always a window,
Not your world, words or verse.
But to and through mine.
It is not your right to delete.
Not yours to asphyxiate it under your rules.
Posts never have been governed,
By servers kings or saints.
Neither by Nationalist or Protagonist views.
Poetry is free and flowing since the dawn,
Of human awareness.
Who are you to censor it.
What makes you Solomon.
Who accepts you as wise.
What is wisdom.
When the W of Who is unknown to you.
You choose to censor.
Do that.
Cut roots of a civilization yet to be born.
The still born will rise.
Unlike bizaare Hollywood zombies.
They shall roam free,
With your keyboards jammed
Your conscionce unfettered
The world a democracy with no laundering of faith
They shall delete erase and annihilate you
With peace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem