Paralysis of the brain
Cortex to spine
Limbs hung like vine
An empty page
Paralysis of the heart
The blood is pooled
Veins dry and cool
Pen useless as a dart
Truth in a mouth of lies
Can't drink the wine
Not blood but turpentine
This is only an exercise
A blind hitchhiker prays
Out of gas on the highway
With the car in the driveway
For I cannot write today
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem