I walked through the heat
through the endless losing wills
all the teachers are gone
and the gypsy lives with-in me
I pass the unhappy people
with sneers and bloated bank accounts
in the city of nots
knowing they can't see what I see
but maybe they'll hear a verse
and catch a glimpse of the truth!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem