I want to write
as well as you,
I do...
I do...
I do...
until
I'm forced
back...
yes chuck
a pail of
'I want's',
all over me,
but there's nothing
worse,
yet getting
caked in
' I want's',
I know...
or don't?
maybe should...
favour, a dessicated
flake of that alone,
I want to...
yes,
but at what expense?
we wish when we
do not have,
but this 'want' turns
all words around,
and where do you
park the finer things,
once you have had it?
so go strip the skin
off nothing,
give me vapour,
when I am not lying...
Sun,
air,
water...
when I die,
the 'I wants' will
be all yours -
until you are dead too...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem