Moments Poem by BASAB CHAUDHURI

I move with moments,
everyone moves.
I can't, therefore, completely enjoy the moment,
movement and moment are synonymous:
when things occur simultaneously,
attention becomes divided.
Moment creates split personality, split concentration.
As the moment leaves behind,
or moment and I move together
in the forward direction,
a hole is created in my mind --
hollowness.
My tragedy, every man's tragedy:
moments create hollowness,
poverty creeps in,
sorrow expands in vacuum --
in heart.