My dream went astray in a vision that day
And yet my mind had not gone away,
And none was there to say what they had seen,
All the colours or schemes within that dream.
Taken to the air on wings of how I feel
Parting the thrills of deeds within a wheel
I wait and waited late until night falls,
When I cannot sleep I turn and look at the walls
Surrounding me, and signs coming closer
Reply with dreary lines blown into the air,
What to do when you have time to spare?
Pass the time when it feels like years of despair.
Waiting in the queue with strangers
You are not there and time is not yours.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can relate. Whenever I switch lines in the grocery store the first line goes faster.