It has a truth that wants to silence, of his throat left the unspeakable thing but their words were not melodies. It does not have joys, Remembers that it had once them. It has now them kept in a drawer Hoping the opportune moment to dust them. It has the kidnapped voice, his humanity it has been moored, it feels that its soul is dried and withered as wheat fields to the negligence. It does not have freedom, that one took off that attempted against him and its thoughts. The worse thing of everything is than the twig thinks it is doing that it well and that is the worse damage of everything, the one that thinks that it does not have errors. It has an urgent necessity to be different itself.
It simply does not want to merge with his surroundings; every day their veins, their blood and its joints become threads in wheat through where they pass the insects. It is not scared, In spite of everything what they have done. The forces the extraction of the bottom of its being removes, Them from its desire to live and which nobody forgets the evil that has become. It has the closed eyes. They have humiliated until leaving it of knees but he will obtain bravery from his entrails stops to continue. It does not have shackles, But it is not necessary. The one that enslaves does although it is with the glance and the enslaved one does not need more than to feel dominated. It has the yellow entrails but it fights every day against its detector. Its fight is not to blows, its battle is pacific resistance because it knows and it has seen that it can live without barriers nor jaws. (The poetry is done on the basis of a photography that you will find in blog next) original Author and source of the article.