Gone is the past, shattered by ageless time, with no where to
go you stand still.
Relying on others to help pull you through, letting everything
flow by with no continuity.
Never having to sit down and think things through, everyone
passes you by.
Because you are too full of unanswered questions of yourself,
to reach out your hand in an unsteady stream of life.
Drifting from thing to thing in one place, your face has become
a broken mask - yourself a meaningless task.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem