Writer's Plight
Writer's Plight
Whole life closed
And tied and carrying the
Bundle on head
Tatter pages echoing in my ears
Split dark ink spots like smudge
On career
Screaming freedom!
Don't ask me how I died
In this pretending holy world.
Do you write fantasy
With frantics?
And get your noble face shaved
With haruki
Do you lose this noose around
Our throat?
Before burning us with cruelty
You will see smoke that make
You cry
That is enough for tribute
Much maligned before ousting
There is no place anywhere to live
Except for your heart
We are millions with you anytime
But you don't cry my dear writer!
You are walking with us to search
Shelter.
Be strong let us burn
We would come again with
High surge inside you
To touch the sky.