stripes and worn
the song that strings
the world along
the very same of us
to bring it to fruit
the wayward son the
sacred lift, more of
time and space, void
of promise forever
wield and progress
the yield, the niche
ovum and seeds brandish
sax, base, and drum purchase
what you can to make a
difference around like
tastes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem