in the ushering,
of discovering,
what made me tick,
i sought to pick,
what would made me sick,
filled my belly with my desire,
thinking it would make me higher,
fueled with the will to fire,
what draws me to hire,
what am crazy for.
Drunk i was to the beam,
struck to be in the dream,
of what i was obsessed,
that i became posessed.
Drown by the intoxication,
of the beer am into,
that i saw things in two,
thinking it was pleasure,
though it brought me pressure.
how can i escape this moment?
Of words i spilled that made me a poet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem