In a crowd of friends, being loud
Around people that are on my level of social shroud
Under the influence of something to which I have become a slave
Alone in a world where there are varying degrees of fame
Removed from the growth and learning that can cloud
Amidst the center of what is considered 'now'
Attended by superficial things that are soothing for the minute, not the hour
Sleeping off the intricacies of life
Beginning things
Ending things
Making sure things go right
Making sure things go wry
Making sure
How can I feel comfortable?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem