Lonesome in this city
Midday till midnight
In search of food and water
And a roof overhead…
The days are like empty pots
The nights, bottomless pits
From these gloomy vacant eyes
Smoke, not tears, emit …
When there is no reason to exist
One looks for an excuse to exit
These roads, outrunning a lifespan,
Never seem to reach their ends
Restless in their quest
Never saw them taking a break
In this alien city
Looking for a friendly face…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good translation. the inner essence remain intact