Pervasive and heavy,
sits on you
like clouds made of lead.
It presses you
into the ground. The air
feels thick
when you're lonely, and
the skies look red.
You feel detached,
sort of sad.Everything
is elsewhere,
everyone's away,
abandoned you are.
All that matters is far, and
you are here with
nothing near
but your sorrow and
no tomorrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We seem to be a generation that can find itself unbearably lonely while surrounded by thousands of people. We are alienated from our next-door-neighbor, our co-worker in the next stall, our children with their laptops and facebook and intricate cell phones, our spouses who are angry at the world and depressed by their lives.. Your poem nails this incapacitating mentality. 10