Insinuating life takes us down pathways throughout
our lives, not caring what we think of it.
Always looking for reasons to look to ourselves,
becoming tangible beings of importance, at least
to one person in this world.
At times being frozen in our steps, mind staring,
not clearly seeing what we are feeling inside.
Living on the fringe of existence, allowing it to
relax and being alone for a while.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem