running with the speed of light
trying to stay away from fights
just want to sleep in a hustlefree night
people screem to satisfy there life.
the talents are left all alone
my mind got full of treat and soar
my passion would go down
faces would be left with a hollow frown
today i am famous
tommorow cant be told
people praise me in front
at my back call me fool
people get jealous, some become rebleous
i become freaky, somtimes creepy
i kept turning on my bed
a sudden yell came from the shed
my poetry are all confused
knowone understand but call it cool
no sense of rhyme, i know after a while
who cares i will remove the soars with a glass of whine
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem