Seven Years Poem by Singer Joy
Seven Years
With the mirror breaking
Crying, sick and aching-
Its reflective, glassy throat.
And the ashes feel like water
In the springtime of the slaughter
As the shards just barely float.
Deathly white frustrations
Coupled with recriminations
Lay now all in sparkling pieces.
Stained with life-force, oozing,
Trembling hands now using
What superficial Vanity releases.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/24/2024 6:15:41 PM # 1.0.0.1119
