Too much unfinished business,
loose ends floating like
ribbons on a silver stream.
So many unfulfilled promises
leaching away from
accomplishment as they drift,
forgotten similes.
Pressured by each other.
Over the last ten years,
so many incomplete
thoughts sitting in here.
How do you release them,
when they start to bring you down,
how is it I naturalise them,
when it is impossible,
unwanted to sort them out.
7th June 1992 1745hrs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem