a destination to which no road went,
or
a road with no destination,
it's not at all different.
a poet-less poem,
a face-less portrait,
an ignored, simply forgotten date,
a non-ending, ever-lasting await,
a soul threatened by hatred,
a railroad, but not any more straight,
a feeling no artist can illustrate,
the only creature in the world, without any mate,
a Picasso who won't paint,
a Virginia who denies her being a poet,
Without you darling..
I'm all of the above, at the same time..
or each, every moment..
Without you I am! I do Not exaggerate.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem