A wall just can't answer
The bleeding mind's call;
It's wood has no warmth
And no heart, at all.
Cold brick and shutters
Will never admit
The soft touch of fingers;
A hint of regret.
Someone may be searching
Their days, for some peace,
But inside of our prisons
Even long arms can't reach.
I wish I had heard you
At your loneliest hour,
But no one could save you,
For you had all the power.
Each man is a sovereign,
And he rules his own day;
It never turns, on what got said-
But what- they couldn't say.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem