trees wasted on 
restlessness
I go back, put on the 
television,  staring 
at programs, 
commercials, again 
I leave and walk around 
the neighborhood lights 
are on.
Back at home, 
Looking at the 
ceiling
Tossing
Turning
the bed sheets
waiting for peace.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    