the world grieves
for nothing
i work hard
to an extent there
are days which are so busy
that i have no time
to wash my face
or see myself in a mirror
plaque builds up inside my gums
my teeth feel like
a rugged rock
i sweat
i am humid
most of the times
i hurt myself pushing it much
like a dagger
to my own arm
and i know i get nothing
for all these
it is indeed an honor
when i finally get nothing back
with me
for it is the essence of
our existence
this nothingness that
shall make
us full
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem