sun never have a chance
to touch my healthy hair
i don't know colors of leaves
that wallpaper length of highway
besides long white, yellow lines
and raging lights behind me
for so many times i'm tempted
to step on brake; but i prefer
listening to loud music; pain free
while i journey beyond those
darkness cradled by graying
clouds; full of promise dawning
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem