I was dancing in the cool november rain, wishing all for sunshine. Wash away my pain.
Inching into dawns next pure prolific day, the extravagant, autumns decay.
Steam from the hot sandy road makes vision regretful, I'm dreading this long flight this eve of thanksgiving.
It was in all poets purity combined, that I was beginning to find, unity and destiny.
For all is building, once it was gone.
Humbled into the decaying pine needles beneath my dirt ridden feet, fleas gnawing at my torn bedsheets.
I find the answer above, grey loomy clouds pissing on my warm sweaty face.
I think it was home, a peaceful hearty place.
Steam from the hot sandy road makes vision regretful, Very amazing expression shared here. The title of this poem is too interesting.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Verily, a good description and imagery