Morning breath can spoil the day...
We try to correct as best as we may.
Eyes roll all about even in great sized halls...
Ears keep listening as if built into thy walls.
Morning breath can drag one down...
Left behind.....
A saddened sound.
That sound that keeps echoing in my ears...
Can send out vibes so careless and instill paranoidal fears.
Trailing down cheeks are streaming many wet tears...
Heart broken down as if like a hoopty CARt.
Both may not wish to ever once start.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem