I despise this feeling...
This uncertain fearing...
Of things that are transpiring...
Signs that love may stop blooming...
And so the mind begins its questioning...
Should I keep on pursuing?
Or must I cease on waiting?
Shall you ever go on deciding?
Or will you keep things hanging?
Must I again do some begging?
But alas this time I must do some thinking,
Decide whether my thoughts shall be love's undoing,
Whether my actions and words are of me unbecoming,
And all of these things has gotten me apprehending.
meonp.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks, Efe Benjamin. :) Write on. :)