since i do not have
a sense of direction
i just bend a little
to accommodate my
own shallow fears.
i bend on a window sill.
put my hand on my chin.
and then to every person
who passes this road
i take a closer look
trying to figure out
what suffering has he
comparing it to mine
and then comforting myself
that i am not alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem