Our Democracy
that old boy go out to gallery
what is a lot of flower crop
last sit and look into far to future
what shadow in his eye
about its party conflict
but when I ask him
he answer
ah, that only gravel in life
life still be long
wait they will make peace
by theirself
but paying attention to
thereafter they will be more be adult
that's democracy.
poem by Prasetya Utama
Added by Poetry Lover
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