an old man
sits in a room alone
in the darkness
constantly by himself
now deep in thought
death
might walk
into the room
hopefully
it will
give him some
more time
and will not take him
before morning
because
he still has some
people
that he had not yet
forgiven
and some people
who have not yet
forgiven him
he grabs his finger
with his other hand
points it
to his head
trying to force himself
into thinking of
something else
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem