A memory, fresh, appeared today
snippet of that portentous day
unusual though, since so many.
Each with a twist… on display.
And what am I to make of that…
that ‘innocent’ little chat
now just endless slices.
Tell me… how am I to act?
Promises given, now so useless
just sweet melodies to impress.
And of the rest, my dear…
now memories to suppress!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem