Paper, ink, wood and emotion. Crackling light from a box, warmth and a plan of remedy. Thoughts of changeing the painted masterpiece on the wall, a careless leader with a cup of ink. A sea of anger with with open mouths, ready to be fed with food they did not deserve nore need. The starving silent eyes stand in the distance watching the gluttony of the foreign crowed. The paint begins to dry and the master piece is no more.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This is a poem with a deeper meaning than a literal understanding. Sometimes.. change will lead to something that less than nothing or better than worse. Well done.