Sitting on an icy bench
waiting for a bus
i don't know where it's going
on this chilly afternoon
maybe somewhere tropical
much warmer than is here
in this god-forsaken city
somewhere on planet earth
where people can be colder
than the bench on which i sit
i hope the bus comes soon
or i will catch a cold
or the flu or even worse
can freezing give you cancer?
i hope the bus is heated
i left my coat at home
or maybe it left me
i really can’t remember
but right now i’m cold as ice
somewhere tropical would be nice
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like it - I like it! It has a chant that bends the rythum. Try my - Frost Flowers. Adeline