I glanced at her as she talked,
Not seeing her words but her eyes
And all that had stayed behind, locked
In our hurried good-byes
I wished her smile had told me more
Of the thoughts on her mind
But the smile she showed only wore
Veils to hide behind
We never see our stories take shape
But looking back can tell
Oh the lives we lived, mouths agape
And the lives we didn’t as well
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
our stories taking shapes. I like the writing style. thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.