I fear one day
I shall find my heart
crumpled in the trash
with all the poems
I once wrote you.
And you will reveal
a wicked tongue
that I had so feared would ravage me.
So I wait,
in silent expectation,
of the prophecy
that I have manifested.
When you no longer love me,
and my heart is weak and torn,
I can say I was prepared
and be gone
by morning's light.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A good anticipation on the unseen expectation