What is it that keeps me
hanging around in this world
full of frustration?
Is it my solitude full of music
or music itself?
coming to fill me up night and day,
any time.
Travelling through our lives
at the speed of light...
how futile and pointless it is!
Since you left,
it’s even emptier now,
not much to keep afloat,
unless my music fails,
but it doesn’t.
4 Jan 2008, at work
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem