the ugly creatures come
crawling beneath our feet
we feel
their tiny hundred hands
above the skins
of our existence
we are tickled for a time
and then we shoo them away
we used to feed them
but we change
too
we are what we are
despite
we are the attempts about
why joy and
beauty must be
we choose
and hold....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem