Everything comes and goes
but I still stay the same
I have the same clothes and
the same emotionless expressions
The same car and the same pointless
outlook upon our existence
I'm just an old house upon
a lonely hill waiting to be
occupied with something different
I have the same white paint
that is ready to peel completely off
I have the same windows half of which
are shattered and scattered pieces
I have the same door that now
lays upon the floor sad and useless
When will this change?
When will I change?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem