imagine an archers arrow, tumbling side over side. now stop it in mid flight. time standing still, gives me the chance to meet face to face and rummage through your pockets to see how you really feel, really act, really think. and then the clock reaches out its little hand realizing something is off and winds himself. but its too late, i already know how you really feel
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem