Walking down Tottenham court road
drinking a pint of cold milk
eating fresh wild strawberries
skipping merrily
careless to the peril
that is so visibly following
Gradually
My pace quickens
My shadow shapes into terror
Outline of mine- a mere blur
Unable to comprehend
the abrupt rupture of paranoia
I see him
even sense him
But I can't feel
or remember him
as my longing becomes
far more extreme
I acknowledge
that this is only but a dream
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
fusion of fear and longing - well first fear, then longing - trepidation! nice order