You're supposed to be my rock,
But you're not.
You're the type of solid ground that starts to sway then fades away,
A calm sea with a brewing storm as its essence.
Your sunshine cuts the days in half,
As it hides behind the self-made clouds of another time that never seem to fully pass.
Leaning on you is a leap into a fall with an unknown end.
I can't escape the taste of uncertainty,
As I try to turn away,
Wondering to myself again-
You're not my rock-
Are you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem