south end. stoping abruptly.
i only see black and in the middle is a paper skyscraper.
tall of course. its suppose to be. but to me
its short, very stout.
i have no idea why.
was i expecting more?
paper skyscraper the only one there. the
only anything aother than me and the black.
'red paper skyscraper, turn whtie.'
look a t me, talking to an animate object.
a paper skyscraper in the south end. telling it to be white.
a spell of hope.
i want more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem