The morning just broke
When a trash cart
Move bringing a little girl in a fall
Cursed bone whispered restlessly
Twisting the wheels in a crunch of sadness
A thousand scratches thickens on a tired face
Wrapping the cheekbone without a piece of meat where the blood flows
Speaks inwardly, where to go
I carry the blood of the flesh of the seedlings of love ALLAH
Little girl in a pasi shape
Has turned into a holy nananthe
Cold and frozen despite being burnt by the blazing sun
Toast her uncluttered shroud
The rubbish cart continued to creak
Down the narrow alleys
Past elite houses
The man's heart did not stop screaming
Poor little girl
He has left his gloomy world
Cut a long historical wound
Until when will this gap end?
