Fools will be desperate
To tear you down
They burn their crosses
They need your frown
A topsy world
A turvy smile
and all the while
The stench of pain
within rotting skin
All their hate
Blinds from within
A mole in tunnels
That borrows deep
They walk in shade
Their blind
Or sleep
And in this hate
Their tiny world
Co operates
Guarding the tiny fragments
Of their shattered selves
A fool will plunge
Slam
Plummet to a thousand
Square inches of their own pain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem