One day his father gone
The next his mother
Paint chips away like memories
One memory was of his brother
He stands still like a statue
Until in creeps night
Trying not to break
But losing the fight
Hes woeful like a still wall
Stands still and likes to pretend
Thats his days are still happy
And this is not the end
Hes a faded bland wall
A sheet of paper never used
A work of art never admired
A broken light never fused
An upside down smile
A colorless wilted flower
Trying to take from, sun and moonlight
To stand, some power..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem