Rusten bites moaning
Screams, moaning growing
No one but all around.
Grinden a dusted town
This isn't where i grown
It's all Small,
it's all thrown
Thats not me look at me
I wasn't going to nor won't be
Yet not sorry can't be
He is dead, now i'll
Olden bites rusting
Laughs, moans growing
Not one but all around
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very interesting poem! Made more interesting by the title and your notes on the poem. I'd like to see more of your poems on PoemHunter. You have a unique perspective. Check out some of my poems if you like. - Marcos Oro