When you look down a straight line you can't see any sides,
dangerous to crossover, steering from hurt, you sit safe and cold.
Asking others not to take sides to perpetuate your own mired myths,
safe with transient trash by your side, as the truth drives on by.
Your friends look no deeper than the words you choose to use,
on the other side of the thickening line, a kind life still fit to abuse.
I know your sordid side and I'll tell you still you’re woefully wrong,
another’s life wasted for selfish nothings, which side are you on?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem