In dark streets where nothingness lies,
I walk alone and cold
here where emptiness is solitude
I find a place to weep.
I was the background other played around
the stage others acted on,
but my usefulness has ended
I’m alone to cry to myself.
The tears I shed
are not of self pity
but are of love
that once was warm
but turned like the wind when angered
to cold and harsh,
but even now I’ve lost
I still remember the warmth
and softness it once had.
Even in this desolate place,
I feel the warmth I once knew
and the tenderness
that used to overwhelm us
in our moments of bliss
though you are gone.
Date unknown
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem