Walls of fortune surround me, yet never do I get to
touch or hold onto any of it.
Poverty-stricken, ambling slowly down streets of
hunger and destitution, attempting to hold onto
faith or hope and failing miserably.
Falling into another gutter, all hope is destroyed
once and for all time.
(10: 57 p.m. - 12/12/08)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem