there is nothing
in the space between
harmones and habits
reproduces and cohabits
the body is flimsy
the man inside is the dagger
the cloak is powerless
the oak within is the manager
I see the body
fenced by fancy looks
my baby embodied
the Newtonic buddy.
I see the brain
the spark and the light
alert and sound
creativity abound
you are the scientist
you are the sculptor
you are the writer
you are the director
yet, I could only marvel
the dead body
the man who stole the scientist
topped the list
the man who stole the sculptor
ranked first
the man who wrote the fate
of the poor writer
he is the perfect mate
the man who filmed the drama
he packed up the director
what a marvel!
the dead and the living speaks
the coins in your purse
your talents and tonns of money
Boss where are you?
who sucked your life
dead one I love you
YOu are the Wisdom
YOu are the Temple
of learning and reality! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
the mystic man is yet to come out
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem