Listening to sorrow pour from a lone harmonica, crying to
the world in an abundant storehouse of grief.
Standing in line, awaiting the compassion of another person
who randomly comes along, matching stride and falling in
beside me.
Such long enduring periods of loneliness, followed by an
emptiness and final feelings of sheer abandonment.
A hole being deeper than anyone could ever dream or think
of, sitting here in my heart, filled with tears and flowing
sadly down the long, lonely road of life.
Searching for the pathway to a semblance to life once again,
afraid there might not be one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem