Tracing tears backwards in time, trying to find where they
once began, maybe stopping them from following me into the
present.
Holding hands with time, , straying off the beaten path of
life to find more purpose and energy to continue living.
Knowing there is nothing to hold onto anymore, like a
fluttering leave in a hurricane wind, no feelings, or roots
to be aware of.
Being pushed into a life that I want no part in, tears of
frustration stabbing like a knife.
There's no understanding or compassion for a person left
alone, no love, no hand to hold or touch in this sorrowful
state of mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem