Space does happen in the continuum of environments
Though to be located by the daily journal that implements
Walk home from the positive, wonder why I’ve turned negative
When the bubble goes grey, on a somewhat sunny day
The car park of souls where I don’t have to think anymore
But something left the engine running and now it’s sore
I guess one must take the ride on the seesaw of ones life
Cut it down to bite size with blunt scissors not a knife
Don’t want to be anywhere else as the greener grass is weedy
Perhaps not so desperate but also something inside is needy
I guess I took a space walk and now my lifeline has broken
Could call out to friends with sweeping cries so unspoken
Drifting round in circles being drawn toward the sunshine
Didn’t somehow fathom that my approach was on an decline
Tired these eyes have become but fat my thought remains
Lethargic of the common sense delivered in songs and strains
We’re all expecting something and all so be they’re none
But drift in space from out of my zone I’m not too far gone
Remove the helmet of disguise and breathe air thought lost
Coins of the shillings spent but only time would be the cost
From way up here well within the centre of a hurricane
At peace with cooling winds, let not the storm to refrain
From retractions of lost grounds to play on the game
Realise the place was as is now always to be the same
So tired and now wearied returning home from that place
Drift slowly into zone of the warmth and fragile grace
So let the anxieties and the negativity’s be so now the mystery
Doesn’t matter how you got there, just come back and now be free
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem