The worst of changes unexplained
is the loneliness, not taking friends
or family along, having to pass through
the tunnel alone, all by myself
Not being able to communicate, no lines
to connect one side of myself to the other,
completely isolated, the best I can do is
admit to a headache and accept the
Verdict of psycho-somatic, I don’t mind
the label, as long as I can feel
healthy and sane again…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poem referencing self-diagnosis is in-depth and certainly food-for-thought. An intense read and extremely thought provoking. Thanks for sharing. Great job!