He went from one room to the other
Unable to go any farther
He came out to unburden
At his open garden
There too stopped him
The inverted bowl of blue
That like the ground’s glue
Entrap in dream!
He knew there’s no escape at free will
from this freaky deal!
Wished he had the guts to hold a gun
And bleed himself under the sun!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem