If I could run my nails down
the spine of your back,
Not to scar, just to scratch
the armor you flashback...
I'd scrape away a residue
of sorrow and of pain,
Your deepest depths of living life
when dying felt the same.
A well-worn mask you bestow
hardly conceals my view,
I'd slip between your fear
My fate...
And find the real You.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the first and the second line...are full of thrills...and the third line from the last...just finished everything...great thoughts Kim...keep the fire burning