A statement of condition
A world of decay and dismay
why would I stick a flag in this play
Rob and horror of negligence
Ignorance of such wide spread
It must be an epidemic of imagination.
Creation, innovation whats the relation
Acceptance, irrelevance compelling sense
Latitude crosses longitude
Fond of few
Sorrow fueled
Its an epidemic
What sense brought this
Creation
Imagination
No
Maybe ignorance
Maybe intelligence
Must be some will
Its thrilling to hear such chills
Cleaver birds fly home
Better birds fly far
But all birds come home sometime
Flying away further the days
Lost in a sickness of the swine
Lost like a vine I attempted to climb
At nine its time for a bind
Further I spread my wings over head to see this misfutune in turn
So lost in these words,
I don't even know verbs
And in the end no voice I heard
No sound
No yell
A thud when I fell
And nothing to catch me but a ground
Sad disarray by the end of this play
….....................................So poetic
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem