This poem is not worth nothing,
yet some are worth everything,
and more,
and more,
not much of the same,
rise up and out,
this addiction to expression,
I suppose, is not really going
anywhere?
ye know - I don't what to say,
and so I have to say and say
and say, it,
all over again
until um sick,
of myself
and everything else
for miles around
this world over....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem