Everyone's been
Writing vibrantly.
But no luck,
Just no luck
For the poet in me.
My hand is sore.
My brain is weak.
No gush of ideas,
No words to speak
Everyone seems to be
Scribing vibrantly.
But no luck,
Just no sheer luck...
For the vain poet in me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem