A lonely shadow of a person wandering this earth without a soul
to care, no love, nothing in life, just being a hobo without a
home.
No place to lay my head at night, sitting in an alley watching
stars shining down upon this lost human being, nothing to call
my own.
Finding no meaning to call my own, finding no mercy, no one to
help, just wandering through life, a lonely shadow of a person
am I, not living just existing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem