The man so innocent
standing out to
gulp free air
with moon lit aside,
the bullets rifles
though he belongs not
they place beside.
They leak his blood
to stain their sword
force his pen
to write his name.
They take a tricky snap
to label
him a hard core rebel
at red corridor
life no longer
safe indoor.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Yes, sadly true. Cent per cent. Thanks for writing something so close to the bleeding heart. 10++++
Thanks sir for nice remark.