Damaging inner space, crying, filling it with crystal
tears at the thought of past memories, lost and for-
saken upon a desert land.
No tether to hold onto, no hand to reach out for in a
lonely specter of sand, free of castles and pretend
notions of imagination.
Sandwiched between emotions, not able to get out from
them and be free to choose another life's beginning,
soundlessly living lies brought on by a mother's past.
Mistakes were made, there was no judge or jury, just
blame placed upon a child for a sin that was never hers,
bottled up inside, wrecking havoc with reality.
Not able to see beyond her mother's recalcitrant behavior
through the years, yet having aged, grown old with a
sensory perception of herself at times as whole.
Still shaking like a child within, still filled with
anger for something she never did to deserve all the
pain she's had in her life.
Little one, a grown-up child, still seeking answers,
wanting to know why she' been put through hell for all
these years on earth, because of her mother's mistakes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem