I stand before
These deadly waves
Looking down below
Standing on the bridge
Thinking that I should jump
I almost do...
But then...
I think of the pen.
That red pen
With which
You wrote songs and stories
About me...for me,
Once upon a time
I retreat
From my soon-to-be grave,
Wondering why
You had to come
Into my life
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
coming in to life. good write.