Leaning over, looking into the depths, total blackness stares back.
There is no hope, joy or laughter in the depths of misery's pools -
only the blackness of depression sitting upon it's haunches in
disrepair.
Tears sliding gently, mingling with the murky waters, draping sorrow
lightly upon shoulders drooping in the glare of sadness.
Stepping cautiously toward the banks of forgotten happiness -
afraid to reach out and step upon the glistening sand.
Backwards - stepping - falling fast - sinking below the waters of
despair forever drowning in the blackness of it's lair.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
RoseAnn V. Shawiak shoulders drooping in the glare of sadness. I don't know your gender, I am not concerned. I have seen a beloveds shoulders droop, a flower ooze with disdain and pain. You write well, you must continue to write from your heart fellow poet, because heart is the only USP that sells, nay creates, nay discovers unwritten poetry.