I handed my words to him
the words i had concentrated
so hard on
my precious things
my precious thoughts
He said they were good
good enough to be printed
Yes!
At last!
The day came
I flicked through the magazine
And stared in shock
at what he'd done
He hacked it up
And then taped it together
with phrases of his own
It was something else
something new
I dont know exactly what it is
But its not mine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem