In a world of
Self-centered beings
Where time and leisure are
The most precious things
In the mad rush of the crowd
Most of whom are confused
What for they are heading
Looking at them
Sometimes I get demotivated
Realize the fact that
I am not supposed to be there
When there is no direction to move
No incentive to look forward
Suddenly someone
Whispers
into my ears that I have to cover still
Thousand miles
When I look up I could see the smiling faces
Of my favorite WORDS
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem