the cemetary down the
street is full of life,
the church down the street
is full of death,
skeletons walk the streets
at night dancing to tango.
bums wanting money to
get their drunk,
my search has not yielded
an enlightened monk,
everything i've been taught
has just been junk.
but there is no need
to be angry.
ran out of thoughts
to think at once,
i once dreampt a dream
i was dreaming.
creativity i call it,
some people they hate.
i tell them they will
have to wait for
a poem that is worth
understanding.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem