This is really quite the truth,
I'd never tell a lie.
I sit and peck at keys all day
and write my poems so wry.
I get up in the morning and
turn the computer on.
From then until I go to bed,
writing I stress upon.
I might get up and wash some clothes,
when I do run out,
or maybe do some dishes that
are laying here about.
But, really, with no exception,
I'm writing all day long,
though I'll stop and cook a meal
to make sure I stay strong.
Often times, while in the shower,
before I go to bed,
I stand there all dripping wet
and ideas come in my head.
I often get up in the night
for a bathroom call.
I always check computer then
and leave a little scrawl.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem