Life's existence penetrates reality with a stark
remembrance, having no photographs to see.
Stripping me of any semblance of being a human
being, empty, no focus, no love, only abandonment
and loneliness as I stand in the middle of a desert
snowstorm.
Transforming an energy of heartfelt desire into
writing of poetry to save myself from suicide.
Likening the words to feelings scraping against my
heart, tearing it to shreds, bleeding and sopping
wet, mixed with my tears.
Nothing to stop the destruction of a once perfect
child, now grown and succinctly without a hopeful
thought, standing alone and bereft without anyone
through life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem