BIG wad of cash stitched underneath
his bed, and a ambulance full of medicine
and flood, music inside his head, and a look
of a contented cow.
ENTANGLED by impatience, this fool checks
his pulse, the only thing he hears is his lack
of faith, and money, adding up, not minus.
IT all makes sence he thinks, this goes over
there, and this, in the corner, or maybe, just
maybe, , over there, eithere way iv have become
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem