Am I at fault?
For my heart weeps at the thought.
Yet my brain tells me not to fuss.
I cant help but to feel at fault.
Its just that my tongue could not stand the taste.
My hand reacted like a mad cat.
Smacking the glass, killing that chance.
To taste what my mind had hate.
Dont cry for this mistake.
Its only split milk, a taste I could not take.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem