In the center of the city lives a man without a name
Lying at his feet are the remnants of his dreams
Hears the rumble of the cars go by
Witnesses the commotion of each passerby
While he plops on the ground and waits to die
For he's the epitomy of them all
He's the one never called
He's a man without a name
Now everyday is just the same
I'm a walking mockery in this game
Point and blame with all your shame
I'll go down without a name
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
it is senility..dreadful. good work thanks for sharing