so many things litter
empty bottles
wrappers
rugs, slippers with lost pairs
dog's hair
banana peelings,
in the kitchen after you eat
you are always caught up with so many reasons
to leave early
so many things to attend to
words to fabricate
sentences to make at the rush hour
you risk life in the middle of a jammed traffic
of the city streets
and then when you arrive at your destination
you find the irony of life
you are trapped inside the net of a
jejune
so many papers piling up like a mountain
and then you have no nerve
to make the climb
you sit there
look beyond the glass windows
your legs are crossed
and then you
do nothing
and that is the final decision.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem