From the rear is kept a preference.
Suffocating...
And yet,
Unwilling to glance ahead.
Or peek to see what it takes to lead.
From the rear is kept a preference.
Suffocating...
And yet,
Unwilling to glance ahead.
Or peek to see what it takes to lead.
And a whining done,
Is as consistent as one's routine of deeds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem