Trickles of liquid from the tap
resemble the teardrops
of many longing souls
whose life’s vein is lost somewhere
while pursuing some aims
in this life that seems endless.
Lifeless thoughts making burrow
creating cancerous expectations rarely fulfilled
and in emptiness life reflects upon them
leaving their tears trickle tiny
but within each drop
a story lies with heavy sobs.
(080507)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem