I am poem(kiowa)

I am a wheat-colored jar without air, sound, and substance
I wonder Mazily over all the earth, asking will you come back? would you leave me here dying?
I hear a drum beating and beating
I see nothing but waste and memories
I am a wheat-colored jar without air, sound, and substance

I pretend not to be an empty station when the trains are parked off somewhere else asleep
I feel wrecked and solitary
I touch does same boots of lead
I worry I hit a world that has no direction
I cry in silence as my mind is going numb
I am a wheat-colored jar without air, sound, and substance

I understand my silhouette is dissolving
I say life is short
I dream drops of anguish running all together
I try to stay awake
I hope my eyelids never flutter into the empty distance
I am a wheat-colored jar without air, sound, and substance

I am poem

I am a man with a wounded heart that has no cure
I wonder if your sweetness would make my heart alleviate
I hear your voice, and makes my heart palpitate
I see your crystallized eyes that reflects the pureness of your soul
I am a man with a wounded heart that has no cure

I pretend to be the owner of your life
I feel my heart recuperating when I have you by my side.
I touch the wind, the sky, the stars in a world that don't exists
I worry when I don't see you close
I am the man with a wounded heart that has no cure

I understand that love hurts as a painful torture
I say that their is hope, and soon my wounded heart would be cure
I dream with you when staring at the moon
I hope you know that I love you
I am the man with a wounded heart that has no cure

journey to united states of america