Hey dear mother,
The clothes hanging up high,
Seem to be enjoying more than us.
Don’t they look free and relaxed,
Whereas, we are struggling.
Struggling to find a roof over our head,
Call a piece of land as our own
Or even claim that we belong to a country.
Oh my dear mother,
Do thee have an answer for these?
Why can’t we be like those clothes?
Just free and enjoy our life?