I wish I could say what I think,
without hesitation, second thoughts.

I know we have freedom of speech,
but something makes me bite my tongue.

Wise men say silence is golden,
but dead men say silence is gross.

I wish I could say what I think.
I wonder how some would react.

I wonder whose face would grow scarlet,
and who would laugh in my face.

How much do I have to lose?
Shall I just say it out loud?

Or wait until they tape my mouth
and cut my tongue, close the case.

Oh, then it will be too late.
It will be a bit too late, I'm afraid.

I always open my mouth
in a wrong time,
in a wrong place.

It is:
All the time. Everywhere.

Not because I say outrageous things,
but because it's so easy to offend someone
nowadays.

It is not that hard
to ignore what you don't know.
Much harder is to ignore
what you know.

But it's worth it.

It's still cold outside,
so why are the birds singing
so joyfully and so loudly?

Still freezing out there,
so why are the flowers blooming?
I don’t understand.

The hope is still cursed,
so why am I writing this poem,
like it was my first?

Forgive yourself,
if you don't know what you're doing.
I'll forgive myself,
for I’m the way you are.

No, it's not my fault
that it’s dark and I’m crawling.
No, it's not you to blame,
for not seeing the light.  

I would like to stay strong
on my desperate journey.
I hope Lord will forgive me
and will give me some strength.

I would like to believe
that you too keep on searching.
And that one day we will meet
at the narrowest of the gates.

Everything around
teaches you how to be happy:
birds, flowers, rain,
even stones.

Yet you say you don't know
how to enjoy your life.

You clearly don't want to know.

Prisoners
know more about freedom
than us.