Meek now, the night subsiding
We hunch our shoulders against the cold
And troop more than traipse home.
Coffee because its too late to sleep
Cigarettes because we're too sick to eat.
And always talking, like breathing, loud.
Waiting the night out, laughing fatigued
And slumped, shoes kicked off on the floor.
Holding to things irritrievable.
The whole world awake, past the door.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem