They had, two human beings
transported him out to the edge
of Laramie, Wyoming. That night.
And, after taking his few bucks
decided that it would not be enough.
They beat the crap and more, much more
out of the one whose only crime was
to be a homosexual, a perverted animal.
And left him there to die, tied to a fence.
Yes, he was found, some eighteen hours on,
his face a pulp of flesh and fragments of
just skin and bones and blood. Much fucking blood.
He died of injuries to the arachnoids,
one cannot have a single dropp of blood
so unaccounted for. Oh yes, the blood,
his face was covered, with poofter blood,
except for two small tracks that had been made
by tears. Yet it had been too late for that.
No ears will ever listen to our tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem