This enclosed dim space
Treasures a sparkling memoir
Pupillary in a moral instruction class
Seated with my bloody friend
To learn, to follow all the morals
Preached my teacher's morale
By changing colours pupils change
Cause in some is social trachoma
Society's lacking acuity
But with me
Myopically my bloody friend
Made me cataracted to become
Glaucomatous to drench in sweet memories
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a good poem written in myopic memories...can sense those pupils sparkling in between the (eye) lines...