Coerced sort of subsistence
where soul doesn't belong
The right that was in earnest
with time gone awfully wrong
Just a step in front of last one
in a rather melancholic mode
Where each avenue is familiar
most streets earlier strode
Routine at times is daunting
with longing for spirit to sway
To ditch comforting environs
step out in a jumbled array
The lot would try and dissuade
for your sensibilities to deter
Difficult may prove final call
on path which one would prefer
Expected or if were otherwise
some point in future would spell
Heart's precedence prevailing over
what your head was trying to tell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem