Tender love, lost,
lost in time,
lost in translation,
lost with little hope
of ever being recovered.
Memories, all that remains
of what was and could have been...
Age, fading these memories
as the sands of time
fall through our brittle fingers.
Hatred, pain and loathing,
Hatred for letting ourselves get hurt,
Pain from the searing depression
That fills us like a box or razors,
loathing for not trying harder.
Hope, hoping that she finds happiness,
hoping she thinks about you fondly,
hoping that your dreams don't fade,
hope that your tender love,
your love lost in time, in translation,
isn't completely hopelessly lost.
-James Bateman
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your words slay me with insightful and truthful words of an agonizing love...memories can save you yet memories can preserve a beautiful love that ripened and blossomed that one day you met them....great poem i loved it^^