I have a problem, I have this White Horse that keeps getting out of his stable, and this suit of armor that keeps falling out of my closet, and this little voice in my head that says put on that armor and take that White Horse for a ride, go help someone, so I try and in the end I just get heart broken also, so I put it away until it falls out again, I try to push it back but it jumps out at me and I try to help but just more of a pest than anything. So I'm going to shoot that horse, sell my armor for scrap metal, and shake that little voice right out of my head.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem