A moonless lite ur face
a dried up river....ur eyes
expressionless.....u dont care if u live
lyk u pray for the day u die
u act as if, lyf can never change
and u cant break destinys tradition
lyk ur own heartbeat is a deafening cacophony
and 'breathing' an unwanted addiction
ur lyfs under burden while ur skin sags down
a stone image, whose heart is cold
i may never know how hard is lyf
until i've lived my own
The old man sitting amidst the crowd
wid a torn dirty cloth, wiping away his tears
beggin to god for refuge
gestures were strong........as words could never tell
the load of his burden
as he got fired today! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem