Flakes of bread my head used scrambled eggs
consumed by all fell out of bird
quite plain.
Tired of being ask by those so smart a road
is crossed bye raven sitting ever
in the dark.
Sitting vacant stared upon a line so high I
would not dare my foot to touch
the ground.
What use these wings from they will not let
me fly away in sky their mind
no room.
Presumption consumption vacant stare the rule
passed want them not to kill my soul
no room a heart sees
not a care.
Others not of you play rules misguided cause those
mouths stay shut so play me
as the fool.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem