Feel a scare
Every time I change the calendar
When on the last day of each month
I turn the page
Take it to the next day
Though today is still there.
I feel a little flutter
Seeing before me the next day
Only number content unknown
And mutter
What if I ain’t there, hey?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
They say what is in numbers. What counts, is present. Interesting poem.