Most are like this face, i see.
Open much too wide, how i cry.
Starting out to young, heaven was,
i know, simply i was to much too.
Beyond pleasure, even in my darkest,
sadly it is even now.
One after the other,
always so heavy and all the trees now,
i gasp out as none seem to hear me,
are many were too tall for me.
famous for what and too who,
no feelings do i have left to prove
deep inside and besides,
i now cry rivers.
looking at him today and how i once thought,
between all the sets he now conveys.
he whispers to me in my ear my 'Dear, '
once i was young and sweet like you and i was.
now there are to many hands involved and it's
business not pleasure that brings them all out.
and the light how it hurts my eyes and your skin
is too soft to stretch like this, play your part.
do you want to go back home too Kansas,
when we are both done.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, this is awesome. I just keep reading it over and over again.