In prison
without being accused
or reach your family
or have a family You have
conscience
heart trouble
asthma
manic-depressive
(we lost the baby)
no meds
no one
no window
black water
nail-scratched walls
your pure face turned away
embarrassed
you
who the earth was for.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A sad story to be told. So much needing to be expressed, yet no chance ever given. I would be interested in knowing more. I thank you Jean.