This Is Not A Murder Poem by Galaralia Feo
This Is Not A Murder
There was a wine
on the table,
There were people
on the bench.
There was a smile
on their faces,
There was a love
in the air.
There was a past
in her heart,
There was a future,
in his mind.
There were buses
in the streets,
There was her
with him again.
There was a bed,
in old attic.
There were them,
in the sheets.
There was a morning,
on the window.
There was a blood,
on his hands.
Wooow, thank you very much for your precious comment. I really appreciate it, especially since i'm still very insecure about my poems as well as my English grammar. Thank You!
Lara, I found this piece one of the best writes I have come across in a while. The title is perfect to the poem. Your words flowed freely and the imagery was flawless. Two young lovers discovering their passions... and the last lines... There were them, in the sheets. There was a morning, on the window. There was a blood, on his hands... Then reminded of the title... ; -) Superb! Great Ink! ; -) -Kelly.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 11:46:55 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Thank you very much :) It's up to you, but yeah, my mind is a little bit more disordered....hehe