In my face –
A lifetime you discern
In my moth-eaten clothes –
A cloud of defecation and urea ensues
Attacked by bed bugs and hunger –
A gust of air sends me to the ground
Around the corner –
My life’s sunset beckons
I have lived –
Though not right.
I got no family –
I spent my youth wining and dining in clubs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem