Waking to the insistent repetition of life standing still,
watching the rainbows turn gray with defeat.
Drumming steadily, falling continuously like the 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