Watching the skies that blue and hue unraveling the fast blues that breakfast the Sundays. The blow of the vocals upon the distant wind that air emotions and thoughts nigh upon own mind. The wall that lean and leaner emotions and thoughts upon the words that take a lifetime to infiltrate the mind. The hind that bend and end the days with a gear into emotions and thoughts that heat and treat the mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem