Considering the options
I choose to breathe
alone or be miserable
with someone, I choose alone
hate my job or starve
I choose hate
tune in to myself
tune out, humanity
when all it has to offer
is petty bickering
foolish attempts to impress
with store bought trash
when all that is needed
is a kind word and an ear
that actually listens.
Yes, every day above ground
is a good one, but who takes
the time to notice?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem