What have I done,
To bathe these disturbances
The swirl of pretty pink everything
Bouncing along the tile of everyplace in town
Finally for once
I look through vision that is big and blue
Dead birds lie with feet still gliding
Haven’t pronounced a word today
Up the ramp to my dragonfly’s tomb
Hours of silence, rain washed energy
I am good to you
Because you are good to me
What have I done to wash away the spit
To wash away hate
To stand back from smacks to the face
To turn a deaf ear to a projectile of sinister words
Fired from the mouth of the devil himself
No more bruised body limbs to hid from the public
No more wrist impressions on my upper arm
No more finger shadows on my cheek
And never again another black eye
Hidden by face paint
I shall no longer burn as fuel
For a rusted machine
Yes, this is why I am good to you
Because you are good to me
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem