err I bumble
this clad wiser woe
to or more - a pair
muck on soul
lifted brows
kinda like fell
at James Dean picture show
with a sky like that
I stumble
squints a impressive
sigh
move any closer
I lie down in the street
little less reality
more dreams
I would sleep
if heaven is a knocking
earth is a rocking
so many prayers
we constantly waiver
thrown on golden streets
for at the throne
Jesus sits
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
..may god bless you all.. a nice poem..