Lost confused and time
Change, one thing all man fears,
so we look upon and ask why.
Seeing the leaves fall off.
The tree is falling and yet we all run.
Through the wholes and held lives
we liken ourselves to conquer
The world and others,
so we run and fear becomes
the racists And hate motions,
when time becomes the secret to light
as Things become lost to the people
and operating easiest way
Selling crack and one to another.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
WOW! Play it again, Sam! No racist, I...such a vile, but decriptive word...ack!