at the last
minute
we are still
what we
are
we keep
on writing for free
and you read
us for free
it does not
really matter
we always lose
anyway
what winning shall
we remember?
losers, losers
we are and will always
be losers
not sore anyway,
be keep on losing and
dying
much as we welcome
death
the irony is,
it does not come
much as we expect
its entertainment
the reverse is
true, it is getting
cheap
and illusory, and
so we keep on writing
losing, and
waiting.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem