Money & Power, all that you care about
A fleeting comfort, devil shade resort
A gun or a media, all are the same for me
If they hide what I feel, show me no empathy
Reflect my look...
An innocent soul, a baby's anxiety
My hands are raised, their hands are dirty
With spoiled hearts, they shot morality!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem