everything in there
is clean
folded neatly
that is what you will
see
when you finally open it
it is locked and somehow
you have no key
what you see is not what
you get
what you give is only
what your mind
feeds
do you remember what beast
survives
in that unending struggle of the
good/bad wolf
indian story?
ahh, you got it.
the one that you feed
finally wins.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem