Why did God create such candid fishes
and make me hate while growing older wishes
and when you're young you feel the cracking of your skin
you want to -grow- enjoy that hot wet sweat from deep within
sinfully and jolly you join the folly and hurry to get old enough
but I am -worried- like a cactus drying in the desert sun it's getting rough. M
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem