Waking to an insistent repetition of life standing still, watching rainbows turn gray with defeat.
Drumming steadily, falling continuously like rain, piling up in puddles easily defamed.
Onward towards any movement in time, casting out tidbits of knowledge unsavored in heady tasting wines of creativity, falling on deaf minds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem