As a man I died
Right after your face I punched
As a man I ceased to be
Along with the dream we used be
Should roses ever loose thorns
Then I might be your friend
For now love went on a journey far away
In a desert paved with thorns
I picture your face love
Before I knuckled it down into new forms
Before I rendered new colors to it
Red, black and purple
I loved you before
Yes I still do you know
Yet fear and pride swing me about
Much more than they did before
As a man I died
Right when complements changed to insults
As a man I ceased to be
When you, my first dropped to least on my list
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow this is interesting... Keep up....