A seed that drop from a dying fruit

Slowly grow his bud

On the soil of a broken brick

A tiny stem in the middle of the crack

Challenging the sky with his burning breath

But by the flowed of the minute, 

he believe that the world was too difficult

Difficult to understand

Difficult to be conquered

Now the tiny bud has been grown up

He does not become a tall wooden tree

Nor a colourful flowered bush

He grow as a dry somber shrub

Realizing that his wishes will never all be got

Yogyakarta, 2020