(dedicated to James B. Earley)
Nowhere to run from King Midas
Butterflies laugh at shooting stars
How many times you’ll move a year?
Too much love will kill you, I guess
Screaming popes march to Quebec
O God, mercy us for what we’ve done
(inspired by Stryper’s Always There for You)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem