THIS PHOTO IS MINE
It is not a poem of love
Where the blind, mute and deaf
the usual pity
but also on the rise.
The blindfolded eyes,
closed-mouth,
and ears are covered.
Blind.
Blind really Or just being blind?
Eyes are preferred in truth
And just like that with lies served.
Get yourself into the readable literature and television viewing.
But remember, nothing between pages or colourful images the real news
Get out of your home and get involved.
Learn how to mix in gathering, sunk in the mass, find the real event
And not just acceptable to feed you because it can only poison you.
Mute
There is a voice but the voice of one's is your own voice
but it makes no sense in the eyes.
Mouths are in the mouth of the words you want to lose
against the exploits.
Bonded with pen and paper.
Wants to write but prefer to shrug only.
And maybe, You have more to do with food or place
than events in your town.
Deaf.
The news is winged.
But it seems like a new year's celebration
and someone has thrown your ear back
That's why you're doing something to kill malice
or perhaps imagine that no one can hear around.
And perhaps,
if the words are only able to interrupt
You have long been hooked with these that come from the mouth.
Blind mute and deaf
Factors we must pass.
Individualism,
most common diseases.
An event is ignored
just because it is not affected,
But what about your countrymen?
Will you just let him go through difficulties?
while you're the internet connection,
what to post on Instagram,
where to go on vacation,
or just stuff the trouble?
Wake up,
remove the blindfold from the eyes,
remove the cover of the mouth,
listen to the voice of the united mass.
You are just waiting,
Are you still ignore it?
Thanks to 
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