I cry without a single tear
I bleed without a drope
no one see or hears my thoughts
I write in hopes of getting cought
I can cut with no blade
I speak with no words
I can dance with no song
I can color with no paint
thats the magic
of boiling water without
flame
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem Terry, carry on