By August Suhardono
Always a surprise
that bring memories to follow, the light flickering.
Why did they enter it. Like a blurry picture television spots.
Silently dripped gently on an electric substation.
Slowly go without knowing in a twilight of the rainy season
the leaves are still not want to say hello.
They are like a sheet of paper which scratched from an old record.
Many of the names listed in a quiet, cool.
Still available to enjoy the beauty of your days
but the shadows were more real than the tired bodies.
The cowboys of the hero does not really matter anymore
shelter behind all the power and arrogance.
November 6, 2011
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August Suhardono. Lives in Jakarta.
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