you sleep in bed till 10
o'clock in the morning
the room is closed
the only hum you hear
is the electricity
of the aircon,
light from the keyhole
strikes at your leg
it hurts
your eyes half open
you want to set it aside
you move a leg
and the light is still there
sticking to the wall
you close your eyes again
there is nothing to do
yesterday you get fired
and there is no
rumor about another job
this is it
let somebody worry about you
there is nothing
you can do about them
tonight mouths will scream
at you
the light in the keyhole
is gone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem