A Old Unpublished

I could not touch that border;

which awakens the senses when touched

Everything of value is neglected,

Simple imperfection is forced,

Incarcerated in a low intelligence prison,

What a strange destruction under the pressure of surrounding stupidity,

I can't see that scene;

Which can defeat my failure.

I can't feel those feelings;

Which is life or way of living.

The objects of folly are precious creatures;

Waiting and talking to myself;

A lot of planned confusion has been going around for many years!

I could not go to those destinations;

Where I am supposed to live.

My body shuddered some small words!

I sometimes find nothing;

But I have many things.

I can't find any explanation;

Which will give me something new to think about,

I could find no way;

Which will give me the opportunity to walk again!