Torn Down
Alas! The day has finally come to pass,
Watching your demons burn out at last,
Reminds me of a fern reveling in
It's own beauty for us to admire and aspire.
Borken chards of glass, twisted and bent,
Your bulldozer is truly heaven sent;
Cleansing this property,
Is like having Socrates
Read his poems on philosophy.
Sin and degradation mark this place which is
Firmly embedded and etched into my soul,
That at times I feel like I'm being cajouled,
By those haunting ghosts that plague this
Place no longer more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem