It makes a pulsating boom.
One, two, THREE, FOUR.
One, two, THREE, FOUR.
You can feel it in any room.
It is not on the outside.
One, two, THREE, FOUR.
One, two, THREE, FOUR.
But, floods you on the inside.
It controls your blood.
One, two, THREE, FOUR.
One, two, THREE, FOUR.
Not who you loved.
Or
It does not just drive.
BE-
-EP
It can live, and it can die.
3/11/06
© Jordan Simon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem