“And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out,
and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed.”
—Mark 1: 35
A man stands apart
He leads his own life
For himself and for the father above
Been his own person since he was young
Sunglasses and cap shield his face from the hot sun
Block you from seeing the heart on his sleeve
Spy him in a Jeep
He painted gunmetal gray,
Ploughing down the PCH
In his usual Adidas hat
The Pacific Ocean at his back
Things must be in shipshape
Completely ordered, clean
Home is dark and neat
But something is not right
Because there is not a light's ray
For him to see his own face
Nor what he's becoming
Downtown writing every night and day
The alarm clock always waits
Spending nights in bars
And walking alone in the dim streets
Coffee at any hour even before sleep
Deadlines he’s working toward
It's hard
The man stays apart
Secludes, stays on the edge of the LA crowd
He keeps to his own dreams and creates
Thinks he doesn’t need anybody but god
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem