Like Thorns of Solitude,
Absence hurts,
The broken heart,
A lark, no longer sings,
Can't move its wings
In sweet depart.
There is no 'brand new start',
After a while, even a smile
Becomes a hurting memory
Of what again can never be.
And you start to fall apart,
Slowly but surely,
Broken arrow in the heart.
After a while, even a smile becomes hurting memory while love is lost. This is really very amazing. Sometimes thorns of Solitude remains in absence of hurts. Wisely penned brilliant poem is shared here.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Simple powerful words, tremendous impact that hits the reader. Great write Sandra.