Deep sigh
Slap my face awake, hard
Will today surprise me, probably not.
The one I chased has stopped running,
Somebody else got their first.
Stupid little irritations become magnified,
Stupid little people become King Kong, to me, ant.
I walk the fine line between fragile and broken
Walking with a destination in mind but never getting there,
Never even getting near.
Hopes, nice emotions strangers to reality,
Drowns even youthful optimism that I still own.
Clear eyes become irritated,
Tired eyes become closed,
A good heart becomes bad.
Although I don’t want to,
When I’m left to my own devices,
I think too much
I see too much
I think I see too much.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem