If I tell you to trust me
I'd be lying, that I know
It hurts to see a greeting
hand suddenly clenched
It would be feigning ignorance
If you trust me, that I know
That shards of broken heart
Don't press against rib cage of ego
it would be your naiveté
If you feign ignorance and trust
That clock that keeps 'our' time
Has hands that don't move
Against each other
I would only falsify and push
Your naivete against wall
If I contest that love still grows
In room without doors and window
It would be credulous if i
Push perimeters of my belief
That there will never be a day
When the second glass slipper shall
Come your way and redeem you
From this second-hand step love
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem