Strings of a violin being played expressively, adding beauty
to an interior landscape where creativity spills out upon in-
tellect.
Choices abounding, touching interior feelings that are spread
throughout this poetical mind, no apprehension, stress or tur-
moil to be found anywhere.
Lasting sentiments being focused within this heart where life
has lived, been exposed and died, pieces of this broken heart
lie scattered upon the floor of my being now.
Uselessly being seen and never picked up, for trust has been
irreparably severed and there's no room left to plant anymore,
life has been shut off to protect myself.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem