life gets too sticky
to my throat, and like a cough
i insist to expel it,
but life has its own rules,
you cannot expel it
like phlegm
there are consequences
causes and effects
there are dogmas that
fence the wild imagination
there are metaphors
that can be forgiven
these guilty feelings
of abandon and welcomes
fear the skies
and know the wisdom of the
burying grounds
listen to the wind
it speaks in madness
hear the song of the solo leaf
this one must be
for you, lonesome fellow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem