Cut at birth
it runs backwards now
and up inside
of its self.
Not like when I was
thirty eight it worked like
one to.
Because of its ability to reach
unbelievable heights
they never complained and
just did it more.
Up inside to the front
their eyes were drawn to the
fire works out side.
Even deep in sleep when
dreaming I was.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem