Pleasure is good to hand
Where pleasure grows
Night wil not exist-
This is black and
White painting
Truth's where truth is.
Lack of connections
Networks, frames cause
My free fall through space
Yesterday i revolved
Around myself, not caring
What others do or think
Today desperate looks
For convenience in social nests
Breeding grooming on soft couch
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem