By Cordell Rich
would this man find a flower
and put it in a cage
and at some desperate hour
visit it with rage
or with colored words of anger
paint you black and blue
using words as if new spurs
are as gentle as the dew.
if I came upon his raging
with you cowering in fright
could you see it as a staging
to leave with me that night
or would I appear the strange
if I held to you my hand
would I appear the danger
my gesture a demand
a flower can grow so wilted
it has just the strength to stand
and a cooling sip of water
can drive it to the sand
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful flow of words. The blend of fear and caring, show you just how mixed up someones world can be. Very well put.10+++