Another drunken weekend
He digs in the dumpster
Looking for his happiness
Looking for his love
He walks wobbly
He cannot get on his bike
His eyes are hollow
His spirit dead
He stumbles on nothing
But self pity
He is a beggar
Of the city
He walks a crooked walk
He talks to himself
Yells about a lost life
Bangs his head against an invisible wall
He walks his bike
And his cans towards nothing
He is nothing
But a shell of a man
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem