the pictures
show the days
when my eyes were free of guilt
free of these tears
my heart pure to its depth
capable of love
the innocent smile
that touched the soul
the soul
the clear mirror
now splattered
by the black of the night
the red of the hurt
and finally
by the white
the concrete finality
the end of everything
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem