Away I walk, into the wild blue yonder...
A ghost of my former self, my life torn asunder...
Do those that greet me as a passerby, sit and wonder where I'm going or even why?
I do not pretend to see what my eyes cannot...
But I'm made aware that to many, I'm a mere afterthought...
Yet for a moment I come to be...
A hopeful for the disheveled, a shoulder for the distraught.
But a beacon of truth? nay, I am not.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem