Splitting in the sky so high
Touch lightly by hands so fly
Bountiful in the world's windbag
Dirt-free homicide, I roam
But wishing she recognize
Say more; make-out
With her white and blue vision
Wish she will neglect
The eye and dirt stories
Wish she could understand
Or stand on the things of her, I know…
Wishing I know ways
To clean-up and bunch a tot bag
Splitting in the sky so high
Touch lightly by hands so fly
Bountiful in the world's windbag
Dirt-free homicide, I wish
I know ways to take her out
Away from this city
This city that kills me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem