Down to the cellar,
Or up the stairs,
I'm tired of speaking to the wall,
Or looking at white sheets of paper
Where all my words stall,
Neither wall, nor paper, care at all!
Where do I go from here?
To a glass of red wine, or a beer?
Most women prefer wine, but beer women are indeed women of intrigue, your words never stall my friend! But my words have stalled lately, I look forward to the day when my white sheets of paper become fertile once more. Great poem Sandra, it so describes me as of late.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This makes me sad, Sandra: -(. Why don't you put some of your thoughts on that white paper, and send it to me.