standing in the corner
under the fading lights
a leper out of sync,
a whisper in the pandemonium
that no one seems to hear,
prone to becoming a fall guy,
always has and always will
but still can't get used to the heartbreak
walking on fields overgrown with backstabbing
pestered
underestimated
hapless
stalking happiness but happiness
seems to be moving faster.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem