Some wake up each morning…if they’re lucky
With hope the new day will be somewhat less yucky
They get through each day until late at night
When it’s time, once more, to turn out the light
Events of the new days bring nothing alluring
They are as expected unexcitingly boring
Today’s routine, the same as the previous
With nothing exciting or even mischievous
Where are they going, day after night
Their true destination is never in sight
If they belong somewhere in their past
It seems they are going nowhere too fast
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem