A stumble in my walk
transforming into
a stumble in my personal
state of being.
Is that really me staring
across the way?
With dilated eyes
and blank grin?
Where has my neck's
stature run off to?
I have uncovered
yet another mental
quality of my
extra perception;
that's my conscience
decieving my brain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem