Half my thoughts are left to linger.
Half my dreams, and half my hope.
Half my soul was caught on paper.
Half my fear, and half my pain.
Half, my love, was writ in sentence.
Half my life, and half my luck.
Half of me was ripped to pieces,
burnt to ashes, thrown away;
Many things are left in shambles, but half a page remains.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem