I know - I know
even the bug
started to bug
me,
with it's red spotted
black cloak,
crawlin in pollen
the sky grew
darker,
the thistle
purple bristle,
spikier than most,
couldn't quite
get across the
eye, over focused,
instead I just
popped the button,
POP!
tried to tripod
my legs inside
the blue jean,
most were blurred
some badly shaken,
two came out
at best,
but that's what's also
good about the world
of photographs -
no words!
and the frustration
is different,
the lies much whiter!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem