The Atmosphere of Life Under the Capital Bridge
A hot afternoon at the end of the year, on the city bridge, the woman wrote a pamplet poem, witnessed by street dust.
Under a bridge that costs billions of dollars and shines beautifully at night has disturbed his mind.
She saw a slum and a narrow hut that stretched along the dirty river.
She saw cardboard houses under a bridge that exceeded refugee barracks.
She saw homeless children without education and love from their parents and from their country. They live wildly according to circumstances.
She saw people who had sunburned skin mixed with street dust with sharp eyes like hungry wolves.
She saw people running from day to day with life surpassing skyscrapers.
She saw people using stinky and dirty rivers as a source of life; take a shower, brush your teeth, defecate, wash clothes, wash dishes, and water to cook and drink from river water.
She saw children suffering from skin diseases while scratching scabies.
She saw and listened to homeless people singing desperate songs.
There are often discrimination here, especially at night.
She's mind crossed, is there a bright future for people like them?
And you in the palace, do you see our brothers and sisters living in suffering?
Do they not get a place in this country?
2018
