To help you help me....
You ask the wrong things........
Thinking to much as it does.....
Never sleeping.......
I do not need ropes.....
Nor do I need booze or pills......
Others say for fun some times or none
may I have, , , ,
Those are for the one I missed....
I miss you more than a tear the ground
is so parched.....
Your way is easier....
I contain your sneeze..for you might leave me..
So before you do it think one more minute.....
It is all in the wrist leaking from the slice...
Buttered bread in hand make you tasty...
Dreams of barley rye and corn gone hazy..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I liked your poem. Nice work