different shades of smog lift up to the misty sky
steamy breaths trail from shivering lips.
complains find their place rooted dip into ghetto minds
my spirit is part of this.
I crave for more than just the rising sun
to paint the morning light
the heaven's eye shine with a shy embrace
there has to be more to life than meets the eye.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem