Why is life upset?
Or are we upset with it?
Am I the one not content?
Or has joy been absent for years?
I am the one who lost his way on the road,
And returned after being lost,
Full of moans.
Pain complained about me,
And the complaint revolved around the bewildered ones.
In the mirror, I see an image,
And its reflection in the eye is sad.
In the ID, I see a name,
An address,
A date, and a picture...
For all the expatriates.
Is prison iron and walls?!
Or are people ruling
And I am the prisoner?
Does acceptance mean I should be silent?!
Or can I accept, scream,
And seek help?
I asked my soul,
Why the anger,
And the things around me are very shiny?
Freedom answered me,
I am more precious than the world's wealth,
O poor one...
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