i am... then,
the fallen sparrow,
the broken pane,
the house where no one lives!
the worn out shoes,
the guitar in the closet,
the child with cancer
staring from the window...
the book signed and forgotten
beneath the pillow,
the shotgun in the corner,
eyes painted that hide.
the telephone that doesnt ring,
love stains on the sheet.
the old man trying to bum a cup of coffee,
and the young girl behind the counter
who takes him a cup.
the political prisoner,
his blood on the floor.
the refugee... his blood
on his face!
the heretic who turned away
and found the face of god.
the lover left alone,
the darkness of night.
your words touch my heart..always I see visions in the words written on the page, and in yours I see reality...blessings
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Fantastic poem Sir Eric.