Yesterday was all about today,
today is about tomorrow,
but 'tomorrow' for which we live
is all about sorrow.
Being a deep thinker,
i always searched for reasons,
but never did i realize
that I'm captived mid-seasons.
In the same huger-mugger
I'm my own dear
through the glass of vision
i can feel it near.
I will ignore all the mots
my success is what i hear
in the hue of gouache
i can see no more fear.
But now that I've reached tomorrow
i 'still' think about the coming
this was my vision of future
which had made me running.
Yesterday i thought about my future
today i have none
tomorrow I'll be a loser
just like everyone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem