can starve these bones
till it lost its head
choke this breath
with a chest of lead
scorn the poor
and rich alike
like rain falls in
the day or night
fill these hearts
with
a blinding hate
then let us all go
at
the starting gate
tied up in our freewill
and sharpen our scenes
all us dead men walking
with no extra expenses
been a long time swimming
blind and short of breath
angry at the blindness and
sucking up the mess
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem