Losing

Losing too much, 
if you can not see in front of them properly. 
The porch, a mirror of yesterday, 
looks like ghosting man. 
Interval between games, here and now. 
The new idea is ignited inside me, 
on my head lamp glows. 

It's just too much to heat the head, 
and the sweat trickling down the forehead. 
Oh, this whimsical Finnish weather. 
Who, when and who 
at this point in life. 
If you go too fast 
life, so I do not know anything. 
The driver just plain dead-end road. 

Too late for a pounding 
coffin cover, thus sunk 
mud or mire. 
Spell these letters I, 
they link the poem to this. 
I hope even the husk nasty, 
and to grow the seed heads. 
Where is the table where the 
served in the banquet dinner? 
I would like to now the cup 
to raise, and a glass of drink 
halfway. I would like to 
tame the eye of a needle, 
and as a magician to go 
through it. 
Intact whether it could skill of a broken heart. 
I do not want to leave things half-way. 
Who I would of fortune 
send, and friendly man ?