Hunting shirts previously worn without my say
blisters to the soul reaching out shrived arm
finger broken in nose there to stay.
Hefty are my parts that grow when I sleep
small is the mind pulling covers to peak on
thier find.
Graticule proximate motion laminae strikes
to the soul of the chase up your cave eating
poo.
Unloosed with a noodle filled with oodles
that dribble without cake never to date with
out hate.
Unto me gracious being IRS tax return never sea
without asking a pardon employed unengaged
destination never reached you keeping paying.
Perpetrators...twerp the birds..seeds early dawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem