I am the dollars in few,
crammed in the corner of my wallet
traded for a plastic plate with a dead bird that couldn't fly
The dead bird shouted and cried
only the tears were my own and I kept it inside
I feel adrift..
the path before is now and ahead and yet-
forming on one noble function of time
I watch and observe the world while I sit here
A romance just a few tables away
my eyes and mind tug gently on the strings of the heart
I am the refusal to die, because I am the fear of having not lived
I am the screaming exult of passion
without love
A profile of Success
without fail
A life of
friends with only strangers
...I feel adrift
I eat the dead bird off the plastic plate
and continue on the path
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Well done keep it up without any expectation if any one is admiring your job or not. you are not going to hurt any one in any manner.