Dampness of the years filling insides, molding,
mildewing, blackening inner being.
Emotions held in check, buried in steel boxes
beneath life's ocean floor.
Trying vainly to keep it there, it seems to
have a mind of it's own and begins again and
again floating to the surface.
Sinking, pushing it back under, afraid of it's
contents, wanting no part of the pain and
sorrow known within it.
Given thoughts about finding out how these
hidden feelings feel, opening the box a little
bit next time it starts floating to the top.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem