A whole world of people going round, yet sitting here I am
alone.
Life careening noisily past open windows doesn't bother me,
instead, thinking with an open mind, letting everything come
in, yet holding close, remembering only what I want to.
Keeping secrets, silently to self, there's a lot going on,
but it doesn't matter for I have gone home, inside to be
alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem