How does one live
Amidst the shame
Of loving where
The knives had lain
Where it looked pure
With joy I’d dance
A child’s repose
A steady glance
And now it’s gone
For I was blind
Though signs so clear
That what seemed kind
Was little more
Than ego trap
I’d lost my way
Without a map
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem