We haven’t drifted apart
We just forgot to write.
We just forgot to let flow the rhymes
Of our time in this periodic frame
And paint vivid pictures with golden frames.
Each by one reaches across this dividing space.
Express our true hearts on a margined page.
Blue lines map the path for black ink as we stand to think,
We realize…
We haven’t drifted apart,
We just forgot to write.
Writer’s block, writer’s block we justify,
And that’s how writers on a block are crucified.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem