When I look at the trees move,
I can see people dance.
It serves as common reminder;
A still shot, a permanent romance.
Pieces of my soul, otherwise closed,
Stray in places like these, exposed.
A common thought when I saw trees,
Was to live life with love and relish in glee.
A glimpse of the past, of flowers in hair,
The things heard, seen, and felt there.
An infinite record: aesthetic perfection.
So why when I looked, now,
Did my eyes dropp their tears?
Was it the glimpse of the past?
Or was it something once dear?
Perhaps my nature behests,
I am meant to feel somehow.
Those recurring sensations,
I'm both content and depressed,
Glad, tired, somber, morose.
Without pain what is love?
I thought it was for warmth.
She said the same, yet
Felt numb, lacking, bored,
Our lists are alike, I suppose.
A fate harsher than death,
I will be forced to endure:
Her demure, soothing breath,
In new memory no more.
Each tree a reminder of the jolt
And the joy, I find I am unable
to feel............... TBC
(November 8,2009 - Now)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem