Clown-faced I walk a narrow line,
one foot either side of a divide.
Clumsily I try to play the game,
but I am late starting and I don't know the rules.
I try to catch the plastic fish with the magnet;
someone else collects my winnings.
I've tried every route in the maze -
they all take me back to the middle
twisted, confused, lost.
The hedges too high to see over.
I am stuck in a snowstorm paperweight;
people tap the glass, laughing.
I can't break the glass to escape
but I can't enter the magical castle either.
Stranded in no man's land,
the war goes on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.