All that there is that is me
Are the words that I write fervidly.
My soul only finds my poor vagrant mind
In the phrases it feverishly pens.
My world is a very small book
Hardly worth a second look.
Some fragmented lines and pitiful rhymes
Coalesce in my mournful eyes.
A lizard gnaws on its tail;
As such, I retrace my trail.
Reading again the fruit of my pen
Bitterly reliving the tears.
What a sad little person am I,
So long gone I forget how to try
To look outside and see how wide
The sky can be at noon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like the entire poem, especially the first and last stanzas. I like the 2nd stanza also, but I disagree. I like your rhymes, and good things, especially poems come in small packages. Keep writing. I will continue to enjoy your work.