water forms on a cheek
a moment of silence
cold, wet and bewildering
frost forms, a chokehold
you could have been given a million names.
had death been called hapiness
would it be as wonderful?
equally if you were her would I love you still?
I love you is cliche she says...
so what shall i say?
'your beauty is like.....'
she doesnt have a clue but she
is still encapsulated
Now the truth is set free glass forms
and I see my greiving face, was this my love
despite the current unhappiness I feel,
I owe you more
I wish i didnt feel this way
I wish this wasnt al cliche
but if you fall down and weep
you must know...
'its not you its me! ! '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
awww bless ya little cotton socks lol