I am boggled and my accusations
are trite. Here comes the woman
I wish to ignore. I am this monger
for a while and then I diminish.
What kind of recluse do I attach
myself to? I want to feel the
pain of the ones that hurt me.
To see if I have hurt them enough
to keep their company.
Copyright 01-06-2009 ©® Sarah Sisson
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem