A grey shell,
Thick skin, Stony face
and the ability to forget
The notata I once proudly wear
when the world was fair
under my grandmother's care
Uncanny stares of strangers,
Disgusting looks of friends and foes
and the friendly jest of families,
dust was given to dust.
Chains and shackles anew
Clammed up tight with new strength
Myths remain off it's beautiful within
Only few can atest to it.
Tinnel.
23-06-22.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem