Life revolves and comes up short, little known facets
are recorded and kept.
Situations arise and are gently put to sleep, no cries
or whimpers heard above the noisy streets.
Welfare of despair is flung recklessly about, forming
clouds not able to look out.
Stranded on lonely streets of apathy, caring and
compassion are stepped on and put out.
As life revolves, it suddenly stops.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem