Lonely is a taste
at the back of the throat
where tears collect
and die as pride
keeps them unshed
sadness is a stare
off into the distance
as the world swells
too large too wide
to reach a friend
heartbreak is a flame
making spirit ashes
while flesh burns on
alive and hurt
phoenix waiting.
We birth ourselves
the second time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem