I look back at the distant past,
With a lump in my throat and a hole in my heart,
Those sweet memories of joy and pleasure,
Those days forever I must treasure.
How happy we were in those days,
All decisions made all paths set,
How easy life was back then,
When to all questions answers were met.
Back then I had a listener,
Who heard to my tales of joy and sorrow,
And patiently sat through my crazy stories,
And silently watched me, dream of tomorrow.
I dint need advice back then,
I dint need a real person to hear me out,
All I wanted was an illusion, to which I could talk,
So a silent listener I had found.
I would talk for hours to the evening star,
Or fills many of my diary’s pages,
These became for long my silent listeners,
Which I would pretend spoke back for ages.
But now I stand alone at a junction,
My mind has suddenly stopped to function,
So many roads to take, so many ways to go,
What to do I do not know.
The road gets narrower as I proceed,
Almost alone I have become indeed,
The decisions I need to take myself,
I have me to answer to and no one else.
So now I need my silent listener to take a form,
Some advice to be given and a duty to perform,
I need my silent listener to talk,
And along with me my path, walk.
So I need my listener to be more than audience,
To be a real person for once,
Than being a listener do something more,
Listen to this plea for help and don’t ignore,
My best friend,
My only advicer,
My soul mate….. my silent listener.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.