Wasted minutes, wasted space
I can never find the right moments
to tell you what you mean to me
I stumble on my own defeats,
reach back again and again
for lives I thought were tragedies
Cruel time, cruel laws
gravity nailing me to the earth
even when I don't want to be here
I'm rich if rich means
trading pieces of time in for people
but I still can't speak around you
Spending letters and energy
Cruel wasted minutes swirl down the drain…
at least I'm not going with them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem