'Climb on top of the hill'
I heard a voice scream
'Follow me up the mountain, there is no danger up here'
And I followed
Like a child follows his father into the street
After enduring more embitterment from his alcohol prone mother
Someday the door will close
Someday the wind will blow you back down the steep walkaway and back into the city
While at other times you may see a man walk out of his front door with a gun in his hand
With the look in his eyes that shows without a doubt he knows what he's doing
And he knows what needs to be done
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem