you may pass me on the sidewalk and you'll see
a girl with her heart in her eyes, hands deep in her pockets
holding despairingly to her faith. She may look
pensively around, or maybe she'll have her head
down, examining the faulted road ahead. her steps
are none too sure, and often falter, sole's rubbed smooth
from many misguided miles. You may
shove past her and she will award you a
lethal glance and inside curse your blatant rudeness, but
she'll walk on, as she always does, and the
heated fury will dissapate with the icy wind
so too this brief passing, and in time
I will come to forgive you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem