Mass of smoke and dust
Obscures and darkens
Causes gloom and suspicion
Caused by absent-mindedness.
My suspicion is damaging my reputation
My mistakes quickly pull me off cloud nine
It's like a swarm of insects that clouds the day
It makes my thinking less visible and unclear.
I've become quite adept at casting aspersions
I prefer to make unfavorable and damaging remarks
I've become quite fond of sprinkling unholy water
I'll drink a gallon of water just to 'p' in someone's campfire.
The chemicals in my brain have turned to a viscous liquid
Now I'm beginning to see things as clearly as mud
To which I can sling, now humming a deceitful tune
'It don't mean a thing if you ain't got that sling.'
And thanks to all of this, my life is going to hell in a hand-basket
A hand-basket made from the Devil's Walking Stick
Now my face isn't the only thing clouded with sadness
I need to quit complaining and blow-out the candle on my pity-party.
'2008'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem