Cold walls on my untied shoes
documents I never signed
Cold beds I do not know
warmth I call my own
Wails and wallows poured out of bottles
- struggling to stomach filtered epiphanies
English came easy - that's about it.
Sitting around with a hole in my sole
letting the sand in - letting the sweat out
I don't play guitar as much as I used to
One day I'm going to jump out of an 11 story building to see what my father felt
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem