Looking through archives of words we have written,
Broken hearts hurt, others love smitten.
Traveling in dreams within ones' very mind,
Venturing through space, in a vastness of endless time.
Unraveling the tangled words, only they can feel,
Opening self to anothers view, which may not be real.
A moment, a thought, a whispered word of mind,
Now taken to places, of black inked words in rhyme.
Viewing what one has written to see,
Of what we wished our lives maybe could and should be.
We wander in type in an email of sorts,
In lymric of verses, some long and some short.
Take heed not to show too much of your heart,
Breakage unfixable, of unseen lives torn apart.
Go rhyme if you must, tell the world where you've been,
For this is the yolk of the beast,
And a poet's view burdened within.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice work with good depth and meaning.Thanks Ivor