Why should I help you make it,
Any bigger than what it is?
I know of your perceptions and opinions of me.
But I will say this...
To put in your basket of opinions you carry to pass,
I hope to never again experience the witnessing...
Another child of mine dying.
With that image affixed in my mind,
All the time to never leave.
Now...
Why should I help you,
Make that any bigger than what it is?
With or without your opinions of me to give.
Never will your opinions replace my life or experiences...
To medicate an escaping away from my point of view.
A view that is mine I hope you never go through.
Is that your truck?
'Yes.'
I suggest you take your basket of opinions,
To carry as you pass...
With a removing your butt from my door to truck off!
'So that means you're not feeling up,
To permitting me to interview you.'
Is that your truck?
'Yes.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem