I am a figurine in your
Closet, on a shelf
In the shadows.
You care for me, you leave me
there,
Yet you have never picked
me from the gallows,
these empty gallows of
despair of
final
ends of dark of endless
deaths upon
your light and end-
less hands.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i missed you more then you ever think... Love... my forbidden love...