I walk among the voices I have known,
Their laughter drifts, a current I can't grasp;
Though crowded rooms surround me, I am lone,
A silent island in a living clasp.
Eyes meet mine, yet fail to reach the core,
Their warmth a window I can't pass inside;
Loneliness blooms where all the rest explore—
A quiet ache that cannot be denied.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem