Drunk in the morning and it almost makes sense.
Cut in the afternoon and you can just about see it.
Gone in the evening and it's all all right.
But return to it the next day and it's like bad sex.
Empty.
Hollow.
But worst of all....
..disappointing...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There are days when the words do not come, the images are blurred, the emotions are flat and the Muse has completely abnadoned you. Go see a movie, nicely expressed.