Why not hang out till your fingers turn red
Lurking with characters in alleys
Adventurous chance and longing for bed
Tired or enamored hoping for keys
Keys open situations to movement
Freedom flows fast down a neon lit street
Good players conceal their swagger and bent
Edgy, serious not missing a beat
Offering the best sensation in town
Explode like gold sparklers then fizzle out
Some not so serious, act like a clown
Others get their way with a childish pout
Night hanging is clearly a waste of time
Experience fueling rhythm and rhyme
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem