I should go out into the sun
And walk in the direction of wherever I need to go
No matter how far-
And on the way find some other form of transportation
That will take me there.
Instead however I sit here and write my inane lines
As if whatever happened to me however small
Was worth thinking about by another-
A poem should not be trivial
But mine often are-
How much more patience will I myself have
Before I go in another direction?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem