There's another dream wind blowing,
I think I'm going out of my mind.
There's another door to an empty room,
and emptiness is all that I find.
Then someone speaks,
the telephone rings...
these crazy thoughts
crawl slow across the floor.
Now, it's starting to rain,
am I going insane?
Is it time for me
to find another door?
Alone to face this stone silence,
I woke up with one sock on.
Again, to walk this hardwood floor
to find another door to knock on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem