You want me, /to be\ one way,
a processional in a circle of friends
to admire, singing songs,
about life in the fast lane, in it's energy
that you lead to fire, to wash, and breath in life.
This is but the animal in heat, that you see.
All must be gold, all that is trust,
daddy his dust, moons beams
that glitter, it boils the blood.
Turning it colorless, of gloss shades of
you, I'm forced to dream in your pinks.
This is to me,
you reach down and pet and stroke,
I rush in to blush.
/Or not to be\ it is the other,
the first word in a cover of words,
that may follow.
This heat is just as hot,
without even the sun, they blaze ranges in hue
that it loves to make you scream.
Your rash agelessness becomes You.
It You get madder than hats, made of red
It' less, is not, cannot be,
other than two, one in the other it is, it lives
to make you red or pink,
it is one way or the other,
or is it pink?
It loves red to, softer it stays in pink...
you say a lot interesting things but u used forced u have free will its your mind that is traitor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I don’t know what Carol was trying to say any more than I know what this was trying to say. Is there not more wisdom in brevity. Methinks he protesteth to much. Adeline