Willow bush reaching up towards life's own misfortunes in life...
Triggered emotions of the heart depart on a long journey to the cocktail party of despair.
How may i reach my most embearassing moments of time?
Mine is not to reason or climb the beanstalk of experienced failure.
Hark no angels will ever sing for the slings and arrows but put into my overflowing heart of contempt.
All through life i walk blindly as angels put forth a force field, leaving me protected and completely safe from evil's misdirected clutches.
This enables me to remain contently safe guarded as exempt.
God's aura sprinkles down to my driveway of safety...
Heaven's gate shall swing wide for my eventual entry via a coach of swing lowly sweet chariots.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem