The eraser on a pencil
Is worn severely flat…
Brisk rubbing has attempted
to completely obliterate…
A faint trace is
replaced by bold thoughts
that attempt to hide
errors of exploration
Sheets of blue lined paper
are crumpled and tossed
As the stammering
of hypocrisy mounds
into a heap of dissatisfaction...
The efforts to satisfy
multiply in a struggle
to disguise with clever lies
2/7/2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can totally relate.