If words were glass that could splinter and break
hearts would have been wounded and torn into pieces
but sometimes words do just that.
If words were a all consuming fire
that burns everything to ashes
and they are blown away by the wind
then we all would have blisters on our souls
but sometimes words do just that.
If words were a two-edged sword
they would cut through flesh and bone
and go right into the heart
but words do only remain words
and I wonder why we I do bleed?
If words could stop a war,
why don’t they?
To me words did become my enemy
and they tormented my soul
and words make the hope that remains in me
to fade away.
If words could heal
why don’t they?
To you my soul lies bare
and still words only do remain as words,
but why do they hurt so much?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem