He keeps going on and on
Looking straight ahead
Trying so hard not to look behind
For it hurts him so bad
No one’s sentient of what’s in his head
Only the soft pillow that’s in his bed
For he doesn’t speak about it
Nor has he ever shown it
He always acts in ways
As if he has no dismay
But always at the end of the day
To God he asks and prays
Why is this world so unfair
Why do the evils live longer
Why do the greedy gets greedier
When will the empties get their hands full
When will he ever start to learn
That everything he wants
He may never get to have
And everything he dreamed of
He may only get when he’s dreaming
It’s been a million times now
That his heart crashed and burned
As before he keeps saying
He will care and love no more
So many times he ate his words
So many times it crashed his world
But stupid is as stupid does
Give him a month or two
His wounds will heal and his heart too
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem