I sat on my porch watching a man burn
right before my very eyes.
It is a torturous thing to watch
that took away every good thought
inside my skull that housed
my brain of thought.
The skin became darker
with every passing moment.
What was once tan
now was black and melting.
The fears that lay inside his eyes
slowly faded into his mothers cries.
If only gasoline didn't burn.
If only water soothed and cured.
Nothing could stop it.
Not even a person with
great determination.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem