Why is there a market for a being to become a gangster?
Why would putting a wall around you change her?
When every one inside is forced into a genocide, to idolize the gangsters bride
To have money on your mind is how we blead out and God died from inside
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a nice poem, Zachary Buck. Read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.