swarming feet on loose gravel
breaking out sands and pebbles
dust fly settle on clothes and shoes
where does it end nobody knows
but for certain those feet be home
trudging rugs on their living room
so as the dust mite cling for life
burrow in small pores of the skin
to hide, to sip the moisture within
when it gets cold the go deeper
irritating follicle as well as your finger
thanks the itch, it keeps you together
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem