It unravels.
It shreads.
It pulls tight.
I must have been careless
although my intentions were noble.
It festers.
It digs.
It swoons.
I must have been bested
although I had assumed it was not a contest.
It aches.
It calls.
It carries.
I must have let you down
although I thought I put in all effort.
Silly girl.
It forces.
It drives.
It compiles.
I must have given in to you
although I tried to hold my own.
It commands.
It demeans.
It celebrates.
I must have lost track of time
although my count was to be lifelong.
Dear heart.
It moves.
It condemns.
It rejoices.
I must have hoped blindly
although I was cautious in my movements.
Bless her.
It wains.
It tires.
It sings.
I must have become consumed
although I thought I had been serving.
Sweet child.
It swells.
It overflows.
It cascades.
I must have missed it
although I gave it my best.
She'll learn.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem