Illusions, of happiness
omnipresent yet elusive,
intangible like bubbles
I ache to reach out and touch
and feel their softness in my palms...
take some joy from them
to fill the hollows,
the aching voids of my life...
and yet i know,
the minute I touch them,
they burst.
In my sight yet not for me...illusions...
All that I want and can never have
teasing like the taunts of women,
confident of their attraction,
their allure and their existence...
Illusions... if I reach out to you,
will you promise not to go?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem