Meloncholy In The Soul Poem by Julie Van Baale
Meloncholy In The Soul
As I wake up each morning I realize 'I survived'
My body is weary and frail.
The sadness lurks upon me
It is a sense of a fog that I cannot run from.
Why does it haunt me?
I gaze into the mirror only to see an image that stares back
The image is vacant and full of desperation.
Due to years of abuse
Emotionless and unable to feel anything.
Is there any left in this soul to give?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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9/18/2024 2:24:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
