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Best Poetry (Puisi Pilihan)

Hostage

When I'm so alone,
I think of sweet home,
And crawl into my head.

Where there is no fear,
Yet I taste the salt tear,
Until the day I'm dead.

The bonds jerked tight,
There is no bright light,
Hunger cuts like a whip.

But my spirits thrill,
As forward I will
Pray with a swollen lip.

Oh! My God on high,
Show me, I sigh,
Hope on the last trip.

The end

Cleveland Gibson

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