I want to write a poem
but I can't collect my thoughts
which are hither tither, helter skelter,
all tied up in knots.
I'd write about frivolous sex
and what it means to me
or all about the human race, as a tragedy.
I'd write about my slow depression,
how it peaks and wanes,
or talk about my revelations,
those and growing pains.
And yet, I don't have much to share
as far as feelings go,
and if there is a greener side,
I never want to know.
(07/21/09)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem