IM just a kid in this big flat wheel,
my father tells me to fight untill i
see blood and bone, but id rather be
your friend, some one to throw a
baseball and catch with,
when the wind kicks in, and the rain
begines to fall, im standing in the
back with my brothers and sisters,
and were all waiting for the hurt
to stop, still, id rather be your friend,
some one to throw a baseball and
catch with.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem