To pull the strings from the edge of,
A bleeding soul. The stare of a dull,
Moment through the glass of daring,
Tears.
The cut of a blade across the weeping,
Leaves of a knitted heart. A tender,
Touch. A smile of love and sweetness,
Sends the laughter and warmth to the,
Ones recall of happier days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem