AmiKas

closed paradigm

The big size

What a beautiful shape

But every door is closed

No one knows.

There's nothing inside

If there is,

The clouds must be cloudy

And rain make sure it falls,

As a relieved discloser.

Of all the closed doors

Resisting the whole family paradigm

Why not understand

Flat surface of the face

Grieved

I should have liked two parents

Is happy felt

One hour is never together

There is only morning eating

It's stuck in cold bars

A few minutes together maybe

Then pass each day.

...

Amis

"Non, wake up already at 7, non"

My alarm, Bi Ros who always wakes me up from this life break, Bi Ros opens my room blue curtains, I admire the blue color, every corner of my room is smeared with the color of the sky that never lies with his feelings, even though I am an admirer who always lies to my own feelings. The sound of bi Ros waking me up with just one bi Ros wake up, I will definitely wake up. Unlike my mother, I never heard how her alarms woke me up. But enough bi Ros for every morning that I have to pass with full confidence I can go through it.

This morning, I had to leave for college at exactly 9 a.m. I studied Indonesian literature because ever since I was in the Elementary School, I have always loved to read poetry that touched the bottom of my heart, especially if it describes my life, I don't know, if I read a poem, I feel like I'm telling God, because for me poetry is more than enough to tell a story, rather than having a long story but no effort to decipher it, at every foot step there must be a goal to be achieved, and in every word that is said there must be a meaning that wants to be conveyed.

I finished packing in a pink cloth, my goal was to go straight to the dining table that had been decorated with breakfast and two of my parents who had been out since when they sat down, and it seems like they are also just decorating the dining table, there is no life that I feel when I sit on the far end of the chair from them, among the many food menus, I always choose handmade fried rice bi Ros instead of porridge and vegetable peels that Ros can buy in the market. At the first mouth I directed my eyes to look at my parents, no rope that pulled each other's eyes to look at each other, they were the same\- both are fixed on breakfast that can not be talked to. Without them my lyrics, my heart would have been crying, watching my two angels chill each other, until at the third feed, I let go of the spoon and fork, and I let go, I stood up and without saying goodbye I left the dining table. As they did, it taught me to come up with a sudden\-sudden and leave with a sudden\-sudden no strings attached. Maybe I'll go home later, they'll lose themselves, and it's Ros who tells me, not themselves.

I was ushered by Mr. Asep, husband bi Ros, they are indeed romantic with one different job but the same footing makes them always together at all times, not infrequently I was amazed by an extraordinary but extraordinary partner in his heart. With a yellow jazz car, I was never allowed to drive my own car, because Mr. Asep said this was an order from my parents, maybe they're worried about hiding and afraid I'm running away from the war they've created.

I know all those who are waiting for the lecturer to come, sometimes they meet me to just tell me about how it went through, ears that listen well to their stories that seemed beautiful and I never felt, he said, I always ask myself.

"Really, how lucky you are, but not me"

Not once did they ask me to tell you about me, yes the life I went through, Sukma still did not want to show my sadness, and reason still refused to share the suffering of an amigea behind the luxury of a Turkish home. They assumed that I was ashamed to tell stories with less of my speaking style when my life was less than theirs.

Among the twenty students of Indonesian literature, it is obvious, I do not express many words with a voice, reason relieved, whereas I want to feel like telling stories, but there is no harmony to tell stories with them. Still they always seem to be looking for a way for me to open my voice, open my life story book for me to tell them, because actually humans are social creatures, right?.

One man\man does not know from which faculty, call me, yes he knows my name, he is the sender of a letter from my secret admirer. He gave me a maroon-red envelope.

Dear amigea

Is not the moon accompanied by the black sky?

But why light rays night.

How are you doing?

Duhai the mysterious,

But still captivating

I know, keep your mouth shut

Not the mouth, but the instincts.

You are strong, not weak

You don't know, I don't know either

I know, but you don't know.

Your attitude now

Not your true soul

Not that I know, though,

And I'm not curious, though,

But you captivated my point of view,

I hope we get to know each other, though,

One day we opened a secret

Have a nice day

_Rahasiamu_