My heart is like a sick bird,
hiding in his wings.
And life is becoming hard,
like climbing on the tree,
with weezing asthma,
You deserted me like a running piece of cloud, leaving me alone.
I am feeling this, like an amputated leg giving false perception of its painful presence.I have become just like a shadow which is not part of any matter, my presence.is not ever at now, nor at on other day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem