Here we go again,
you clean white sheet,
begging to be neat,
screaming to astound,
to be passed around,
Or is this my wish as the writer?
Read me,
need me,
soak me in,
this is how it begins in a poem.
Or is this my wish as the writer?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
what is thew wish who knows, I like it though.