Daily and humdrum,
Bored and lethargic.
I fly no more but
The moments do,
One after another.
Days and weeks
Go by,
Locked inside
My own little world,
Hidden; lost to a
Stroke of bad luck
That has me undone.
A traveler
On a slow boat
I can only dream
Of the jet set,
And wonder,
Is life a dance
Or a life captured.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem