different shades of smog lift up to the misty sky
          steamy breaths trail from shivering lips.
complains find their place rooted dip into ghetto minds
          my spirit is part of this.
I crave for more than just the rising sun
          to paint the morning light 
the heaven's eye shine with a shy embrace
          there has to be more to life than meets the eye.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    