now i have learned
to refuse seeing you again
i think i should be wise enough
there is always the new pain in old wounds
we often agree to talk about it
i give you time enough
to forget
but you have always insisted in lingering
there is no use over broken collections
i buried mine
scars are not good to look at
there is no premium for pain
the next time you call
my line shall be busy.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem