My muse.
Not a drop-dead gorgeous
with everything superfluous.
But, a magnificent beauty
absent of all cruelty.
Eyes, a deep blue,
her words, nothing but true.
Hair, a simple brown,
her smile overturns any frown.
Staring me in the face,
My eyes see what was once there:
A place, lost amongst people's glare,
Containing purely people who care.
What was a figment of my imagination is real.
Giving me something back I had lost:
the power to feel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem