i feel lucky to walk on the beach
collecting some clams
Clearwater beach is clean and pristine
seeing no homeless people around
and ashamedly, i think, am i glad.
looking up north or down south
i know they have not all died
not as of yet and some might wish
where do you think
they without what, have gone?
i wonder how many die in jail?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem