A child cries
With woeful eyes
Painfully solitarily
Bruises unseen
Society’s head turned
Love is muddled
Games go on played
Grades attained
Superficialities make things normal
Normal is muddled
Security has no soft blanket
Ears sting
Words heard, felt, but unrepeated
Right and wrong are muddled
Choices are limited
A heart is protected
Love is muddled
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
You must be reading my mind...love shouldn't be confusing thought. Good poem.