You gallop like a train head on,
I stand stooped between the lines.
Your light dazzles and you see me not.
Your goals you set firmly.
Words sweetly sung in your ears,
Shot back between my ears,
Like bullets staying, festering.
Skins cared for have hardened;
Hearts story-softened hardened;
Lips hung onto dry and droop;
Messages are mere stories.
I don’t want you hurt like I do;
I don’t want you to know I hurt.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem