Feeling the shift
of the
shuffler
Spinning the wheel
is a
dealer
i'm watching air
escape
from your muffler
connecting these dots
tiny
coloured lights of fire
as what i hold out is
made
to look hollow
by some pretentious
shadow from
the oldest world we know.
And.
If your conscience
hounds
Cant help, but let it show
can't shut
IT up.
then just
Let it go
just
let IT go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem