The daily start through the curtain shines
Grudgingly opens his sleepy eyes
The morning competes with heavy sighs
As thoughts lock in to the daily grind.
Another day, another try
another battle in his punished mind
Proleptic pines imagines better times
And a different life from a different design.
He confronts the clash and all it's crimes
A conscious decision to fight the good fight
The day ticks over and as time flys
He learned to live between the lines.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem