My dreams are not as used to,
they are now virtual.
All I have to do
is rotate the Earth
and stop wherever I like,
land or ocean,
height or depth,
all sides of the world accessible,
wherever I point the arrow,
direction is mine.
Icarus, I have freedom to fly,
the one you never had,
and to fall,
to be eaten by fish I have freedom,
to wander all night long,
sleepless,
and start out to my work in the morning,
drowsy,
fingering the trees
(none on Broadway last night)
to see if they are real.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wherever I point the arrow, direction is mine. LIKE THESE LINES: thank u for sharing..