Deep sigh
Slap my face awake, hard
Will today surprise me, probably not.
The one I chased has stopped running, 
Somebody else got their first.
Stupid little irritations become magnified, 
Stupid little people become King Kong, to me, ant.
I walk the fine line between fragile and broken
Walking with a destination in mind but never getting there, 
Never even getting near.
Hopes, nice emotions strangers to reality, 
Drowns even youthful optimism that I still own.
Clear eyes become irritated, 
Tired eyes become closed, 
A good heart becomes bad.
Although I don’t want to, 
When I’m left to my own devices, 
I think too much
I see too much
I think I see too much.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    