I would have known better
if only they have asked,
and yet I tell myself,
I'm just someone
to be knocked out.
And yet to be blamed
when all things around me
seem to fail down to its dregs,
I stand alone amidst a dozen woes
made by each culprit,
of time well spent,
of seconds made gold.
Seems I care not at all,
though tears do easily fall;
I'd rather knock to the goblin's door
'til I finally meet the final floor.
Got no time to be back
and start to where
the whole world wanted;
And I, left behind...
With only I, me and all the woes I had.
Bitter to where I should start
And living a life left by the untouched.
This is all I have,
And this is all, they say, I deserve.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem