In that which we see
percived on cavas
ink on paper
chalk on board
None horde the word
if those whom could
read were allowed
to see would they
so chose to invest
in rich there life
So cut off swich
turned not down
cut off from the world
by a single man
On pain of death
many have choose
to do just that
not just make
some noise
Let them be wasted
not in vain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a hearbeat a life of poemhunter eagle hawk, , ' future shock