Heavy is this sign you
have not given me.
My pockets are empty
as is my stomach.
Be ashamed I am you
you have not bore me yet.
Spent are your bullets
though mighty are the
weeds of transgression.
Step forth from your air
conditioned car and hold
my sign for a while.
We can split the money and smile.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem