I have all the time in the world,
Yet nowhere left to spend it.
No one to share it with.
Everyday I feel even more dependent.
Life becomes unbearably boring;
A repetitive swirl
Of images and memories.
I detest it even more.
Friends gone,
Yet not soon forgotten.
Memories of them bring but bitter realizations.
They are gone and I can not have them.
Memories are all thats left,
For me to feel what is happy.
For day has gone,
The rest have left,
And I am Alone in this Repetitive Swirl of Reality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I know what you mean. I hate that feeling. Memories can really bring upon sadness, and I hate living in the past, but sometimes I just do, you know?