The spring whispers
breath into the trees
evrey grass bblade leaning towards the sun
as the flowers lilt there heads my way
N i am sick
n so i travel with the lost ones
getting lost in the bottoms
of glasses
n fofeight evreything
pissing in the wind
N love means evreything to me
but i am wringing it dry
self destructive
I leave myself nothing
Hope on the wings of birds
N me but a feather in the wind.............
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem