I don't fit society, I can't feed the suited man.
Laying on my back, I watch the clouds plan.
I don't know where should I be, what should have been done.
Only thing I understand, somewhere else I should run.
Listening the wind whistle, makes me feel I'm free.
Free from the wall they made, free from there speech.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Now this I really enjoyed. Keep at it, I'd love to see another verse sprout. Great poem