a man twiddling his fingers
leaning against a metal box
with a watchful eyes on sea
so selfish for even a smile
muted mumbles came, gone
frequent stare on wet ground
i wonder where is his mind
reaching to nobody's charm
solitary soul drifting to oblivion
we don't how far he's gone
so many does this in a day
some never realize it's crazy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem