Half a life
To be fifty was a difficult time
the youthful dreams didn't materialize
the road to Rome ended
on the factory floor or no promotion
to the board of decisions, and your words
went unheard.
You look behind you the furrow you had
wanted to leave, is none existing.
A deep sigh, time to get the pick-ax and
continues to break stones, pay taxes, bills
and watch TV. About the successful, those
the few lucky once who had the right
connections, free ride on your back to
the top of the pyramid.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You look behind you the furrow you had wanted to leave, is none existing. A deep sigh, time to get the pick-ax and continues to break stones, pay taxes, a very fine story of life and thoughts.. tony