Questions

Kusumam

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    I´ve misunderstood the world of adults
    As a child it seemed to me mad
    And now, when I belong to it
    Well dunno I don´t know
    I´m still off, the trail, I don´t fit, in well.

    Suffering by thoughts
    Not even moaning often help
    Somewhere in the safe corner
    Not even whispering radio drown all the voices
    Impossible to escape.

    Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra

    Pictures of black mothers in my head
    Soothing children in their laps
    Starving done up, hardly able to cry
    Questions are flashing in their eyes.

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    Thin little arms are reaching after me
    I´m out of depth and I crack out to cry
    I turn my eyes and squirm with shame
    I know that cramps, I know that pain.

    Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra

    Suffering by questions
    How I can live through whole my life with ban on my eyes
    With heart locked in concrete sarcophagus
    I still trail my own way ­-­ the way
    To the heap of dung somewhere
    Do I really want further walk this way?

    The African black mothers,
    Soothing words in my ears
    Let sleep, sleep till I prepare something to eat
    And I see, she doesn't have more than water and stones
    Their future views in my head
    Are taking turns and words flows away.

    Yatha Tatra Tathanyatra

    Suffering by questions
    Why we western world men
    Happily drowning in landless
    Consumption with books, wisdom are gifted.
    We can´t manage.

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