I am poking up through my sheet
I am stretching out in my boots
The sheet I borrowed from my friend
The boots I stole from a shop
The sheet doesn’t keep me warm
The shoes don’t quite fit either
But my friend is with me
That makes everything better
My friend’s feet were pierced,
His hands were pierced as well
His name is Jesus
But why did they treat him so?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem