since we all need a shoulder to lean on
i lean on any shoulder on me
i kneel on many like me
but i see a storm over me
i feel the waves over me
the great polar winds over me
might have mistaken-ed over me
but a mystery of unbeknownst
and fantasy have purported my brains
the pain so nice to purpose my veins
to run through a blood of taste
when life odds itself from waste
the exit is to die
that is how i never ask why
because i am ready to die
when no shoulder on me
can not carry me (any further)
opn06062012/1046
ntema's unique poetry
extract from 'shoulder to lean on' from 'foot steps' june 2012 v.7
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
spoken word as thought. thanks Ramesh