Creeping down back alleys, looking for avenues of
turmoil that keep haunting from it's hiding places.
Stepping quietly on footprints, keeping step with
and using them to take into secret cravings of what
they're up to.
Not wanting anymore of their upsetting ways to be
a part of daily living.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice poem with reality that touches many, good write.