These tattered wings I have been using,
are tired and worn,
I use to soar,
now just cruising along,
hopping to find a place to land,
to some place warm to call home,
things have not been good,
trailer with no heat,
cat needs to be fed,
girl friend gone,
hard is this life, so hard,
I think soon it will be time to go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem