boxed
i once wrote about
cells
there was a hole at the
right side
of the top sort of
ceiling of the house
a leak
light filtering in
hoping that
the seed survives
and extends its
tendril
finally to the sun
i think it was
always about
a escape either from
a box
a bottle or some bars
of steel
a high fence
pointed gates
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem