As she,
was lost in thought,
her green eyes,
staring off,
to another space,
perhaps a realm,
she absently rubbed,
her necklace's silver cross,
it was not a symbol,
or anything like that,
it was something she liked,
like her bracelet,
of a similar fashion,
she didn't care for,
imitation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem