he was screaming in his pillow,
breaking up in the night.
he was waiting for a vision,
some thing inspired by light.
he was kicking and laughing in
a really nasty dream.
he was abvious and dreadfull,
and his teath, oh so white.
there was smoke and mirrors,, and
a jester with a funny hat, and me,
lost in this retarded dream.......
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem