Conversation Poem by Harlequin Rose
Conversation
The conversation ran dry in the early hours
I have no control
over what you are changing me into
so I took what I hated
and made it a part of me
illusion never changed into something real
but is this real enough for you?
to be the only thing left
of what happened?
the question ran dry in the early hours
and you and I were buried
in the silence of the answer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/5/2024 8:06:46 PM # 1.0.0.1119
