The steam of my evening coffee
Dances across my face
I sit here alone, silently in this serine space
If the picture I am painting were to be a photo
It would be black and white,
Not because I am empty or sad
But because I have lost the color to my life,
The colors have all faded and are nearly gone
And all i can do is pray for God to repaint them on
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
you have conveyed this empty feeling so well...great work.