My cynisism levels have to drop to the floor
cause of my feelings,
i needsomeone to love too, im not special and diferent
iss this another massacre of laurel leaves
is my mind playing tricks on me
i dont like the bell on the tram as much asi like the dale, the field
the green field with the statue
love took hold of me screwed me up like newspaper and turned me into a
another screwedup person with a drink problem, that
i perfer to get personal when im in bed with
there is no mob rule and you can hear michelangelo
sing to the beaten
geting close to me the freshnesss
of the cararacts
the crystal rivers journey through the stars, ,
to the sea
be sweet my love in waiting
ti you have detected the roughened edge of his colourfull carpet
and know that you have thrilled him as he lay there wishing on a star
and making sense of his symphony
he has the pose of the leopard now
but then the lizard, or some other metamorphosis
he will be a lighthouse for his ancestors
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem