Jakarta Blues

I am a ghost
Fleeting around
This cramped five-star
State of the arts
Elegant extravagant
Hotel room in a city
Where millions outside
Fleeting around
Pagi ke sore
How sore their feets must be.

I am a ghost
Fingers scavenging
The multi channels
On my remote as I stay remote
Mouth muted
An inner hum
While noisy heads outside
Dive into trash bags
Fingers scavenging
Pagi ke sore
How sore their hands must be.

I hum a tune
The only song I know is loneliness.

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Pagi ke sore: (Indonesian) From morning to evening