night light staring at me
an optoped illusion
posted on a dollar bill
for every move i do
i'm spending something
even i don't do anything
yes somebody out there
has a piece of me
i don't even know them
surfing in cyberspace
driving in european cars
flying a private jet
you too, can you imagine
you could be a puppet
nor a puppeteer, they have
string on you longer
than any produce twine
so cheers with this red wine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem