Wither destination, lonely crowd?
If I could only reach to ask -
Not that I could breach the glass.
Down upon the street they’re marching proud!
Only they know why and wither where.
Window let’s me see but I don't hear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your window of soul is opening............thoughts are percolating..........and you have written wondeful acrostic.........10+++........