you've got a chalk-write
you've got autumn fingers-
let them spark like flamelets of the words
across the keyboards surf virtual waves
you've got eyes - see across the lines
weaving the webs of time
you've got feet-stand up
forget about the knees
you've got this
incredibly
intrinsically
intuitively
creatured mind-
think feel sense
it's unbelievable
you've got everything, for Your sake
why are you still dead?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem