Awake: Beep, ring, music, and the sounds that pummel.
Appearance ritual: Why should this matter?
(I grow old each passing day.)
Destination: Some paths taken, new roads dismay.
Focus: Reach your goal. Isn’t that why I’m here?
Failure: Not sufficient. One should open his ear.
Safe place: You’re right. Try harder is the key.
Rest: Set the alarm. Pray. It’s sad being me.
Why
do I
try?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem