Do Not Go Poem by Blue Pink
Do Not Go
I dread... the fourteenth of November
to come my way.
It will all become an illusion.
An incomplete transformation
of a butterfly without wings.
Of a tree without leaves.
It will loom like gray clouds
of heavy rains...
Like mountains of ice and snow.
And this game
I never meant to play
will pull me down,
Hard like the undercurrent
of the oceans, too deep
for my heart to swim into...
Do not go...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/26/2024 1:48:45 AM # 1.0.0.1119
