Pumping rhythms unceasingly taken to the merry-go-round of a lifetime dream, never able to gather the clues in order to make a life of happiness and usefulness.
Memories never being kept sacredly, only being tossed aside in garbage pails of another's life, bent out of shape and destroyed by lies.
Never having a single romantic passion or desire being ignited, romance closed down and never available when wanted or needed.
Just a gloomy future seems to be the only dream lying ahead in the future, but it's not one that's wanted at all for the rest of this life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem