AO (December 7,1989 / Mexico)


What is his?
What is his?
That flying eagle,
That wild horse,
Or that happy rabbit?
How can something be his?
If he hold tight
So tight
That they suffocate
And then when
They are at its weakest
He claim them his?

They will never yield.
They will never bow.
What if the eagle was allow to fly,
The horse to run wild
And the happy rabbit to hop?
Then after a long day
They return?
Wouldn’t then
They truthfully be his?
Not as prisoners
But as equals?

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