When I let my friends
ready my poems
I feel naked
Stripped of emotional
walls and obstructions
When their eyes
review the words
from my soul
I feel like a nude painting
hanging on display
A sculpture
as which to stare and probe
Being over analyzed
and scrutinized
But
that is not the point
My careful arrangement
of words
Are not intended to reveal
me
But, for you to identify with
and find you
Maybe I should
Mail my poems to
strangers
Then when they find
them difficult
to comprehend
They won't feel guilty
about putting them down
Divorce my words from my-self
For me, it is easier said than done
My words are my words
Make my words yours
Allow me to take you where you might never go
Feel things you may never feel
With my words, together, we will fly!
~ D²,27 April 88
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem