The Cure Poem by Jacob Coleman
The Cure
I thrust my heart upon a pen;
Scrawl hard “love hurts” till heart is nil.
Always (now and then) till I die
I will search for the reason why
Shreds of the best and worst of men
Here shut with a soul’s shadow’s seal.
Late and no later will I sigh;
I will pant and ask my Reason why
I must, my soul, with this self pen
Jot soft “love heals” till heart is still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 7:39:04 AM # 1.0.0.1119
this is so so beautiful, it touched my heart.realli nice..