A smile is held prisoner
and peers through the bars on his face,
a smile...barely conceivable
in this delusional rat race.
He says, 'It's been a long day..'
I say, 'It's been a long illusion of life'
as we reach in unison to turn out the lights.
Then we scrape off our war paint with a knife.
I took a walk outside my body
and held my hand the way no one ever would.
I got up today and fixed my hair
just the way he always said I should.
To think, one fine Saturday, we said soul mates..
On Monday, he reads my heart like a crystal ball,
only to see that I'm not part of his future.
But Friday, he doesn't know me at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem