Pull yourself up a chair
let your thoughts fly free-
a sad tale
about a girl named me
days flutter by long and bleak
your persuasion
has left me lonely and weak
Searching for a voice
to listen to me-
listen to my story
heed my plea
can fate grant me
a will to trust
blown to bits
with a winter's gust
Always to linger-
at the rear of the line
equal to nothing
but a huge minus sign-
empty
scared
and blown to pieces-
with each thought
my self doubt increases
Somehow I managed
to lose my pretend religion-
no more faith in anything
not even a smidgen
happiness was yours
to rape and seize-
a fatal flaw
that brought me
to my knees-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem