Counting tiles on the floor,
and imprints on the door,
Tapping my fingers on the chair,
twirling a lock of hair,
watching the same things again,
counting from one to ten,
drawing on peoples faces,
hoping for better places,
Damn, I should get an award,
for being voted worlds most bored.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem