Poetry Blogs (writings)

Cry and cry, till I die

Can you hear,  I want you by me

As we used to play

In the long golden grass, 

My beautiful one. Long gone

Four years, but still with me

Played till state authorities saw

And stole from us our life, 

Raped us for themselves 

Persecuted us, we ran, not mad

To escape their tether chains cells

Far away, beyond altitude. 

For we are ...

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