Sixty now
still think of you
Like I did at
forty too
No wiser seems
my bitter truth
Pained in heart
sour toothed
Empty of
so many things
Shattered hopes
broken dreams
Memories of misery
lies that layed out lies for me
Confused on how love should be seen
My glance is for myself
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem