Dash out and mumble.
Contemplate existence, a toast,
The coffee marvel.
Stumble and walk out,
Longing for the sun that doesn’t shine;
It’s on vacation.
Hear a thousand brick walls crumble and cry, supposedly
it is time to be grumpy and follow
The one true king, down the path, the
Flight of stairs and an elevator with no beginning nor end.
Then gasp a little, and mumble once more:
“To condemn a raw realization
In a scheduled seven day cycle? ”
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem