I hate the way
That I’m imprinted,
Different; the way that-
You’ve changed me.
You’ve written upon me like a script,
And nothing was intentional
But for the bright blare
Which you left sounding through my soul
Before you left, too,
Like a miscreant cat in the night.
And I always wanted
For you to scamper back to me
Like a child.
But rude awakenings happen everyday,
And I am changed,
But I am not so happy.
I feel as though
I am still that child
Waiting in the night
And in the lamplight
Of a lonely midnight doorstep.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I have read a few of your poems this morning and am quite blown away. You have an accomplished style matched with a excellent choice of diction and imagery. Thank you for sharing these words with the rest of us.