Schlappi said
let's make a braid.
To run away
from every day.
Life is not meant
to be so bent.
Let's bury books
and hide in nooks
report cards too
so they accrue
the dust of age
not parents' rage.
So let us run,
there won't be fun.
We did not ask
to be the mask
of your demise
or clear blue eyes.
Would we be nuts
to have the guts?
I do not think
that on the brink
we could let go.
And that you know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem