so many poets 
so many poems 
all popping up like mushrooms after the lightning and thunder 
no one comes to see 
no one comes to say the mushrooms are not so white not so good 
so many poems 
so many poets 
the readers are few, the readers are lesser 
but what can you do? 
what do you expect? 
well, i am just writing my diary, and i am the reader who reads it myself 
to ease this pain, 
to let myself know that with all my unrequited loves, i still dare to write 
and exist. 
and i don't really care.
so many poets
look at these poems
they all look and sound the same                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    