A cold, damp night, no cheerful home.
Fingerless gloves clothe frozen hands.
Filled with abjection at life's rejection, society's revulsion.
What brought him to this? What turn of Fate?
Lost his connection, too late for correction.
Futile reflection on family's deflection.
No sense in pondering,
Sitting here wondering,
Choices were made long ago.
No-one to blame
So sad all the same,
Alone now he sits, just so.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.