your love is a shower
on a rush hour
it is meet with all the
hands of avoidance
you are not that stupid
to pretend all day long
with tongue in cheek you
move slip on those mall paths
humming a song, saying, i
am lovely and if loveless
it is nobody's fault but
that of Fate that fiddles
with the rain and the
spattering sounds of a
wasted day, a lonely night,
a disturbing dawn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem