I was never really there.
I was just a casual tourist,
Searching for shiny signs of novelty.
I never established firm ground.
Like a spectre clinging
To the crumbs of other people's dreams,
To fill what it lacks in substance,
I was never really there.
I walked the streets a thousand times
Looking for a guide.
But all I found were faceless crowds,
Scurrying aimlessly through life.
I never let my mask slip.
I never got close to anyone.
Like a bit part in a play,
I was never really there/
I tasted love's fleeting thrills.
But they lacked colour and shade.
Love lacked a deeper purpose,
It all seemed to be in vain.
I watched them form paltry unions
From the vantage of the wings.
But I was not impressed,
I was never really there.
I sought hackneyed information;
Not the fruits of knowledge
I wasted my time with horoscopes
And other disreputable arts.
I was a shadow chasing shadows;
A blind man without a crutch.
Now all the roses have turned to dust.
I was never really there.
I looked into the mirror,
And was confronted
By my own emptiness,
And age old fears.
I watched the world on T.V,
As the great events passed by.
I never raised a flag or fist.
I was never really there.
And now I recline on my winter throne:
A cynical king without a crown.
Like my kind father before me,
Old but, unlike him, not so wise;
Counting the days and hours left;
Before the dark departure;
Before the senses expire.
And pray that I may be reborn,
As I was never really there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem