The months have
Crept.
The years have
Crept.
Time
Threw I away!
Now
All the ghosts
Of old mistakes
Together round
Gather and come
And torment me
A pound of flesh
Is not enough.
My face is pale
My face rigid
My eyes grow wide
Age flows with tide.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem