a murmur
can be
misinterpreted
as truth,
but it is
sometimes that
way
the powerless
always do that.
it is not always
that you are
drunk that you
murmur.
the hungry ones
do it most of the
time.
the heart murmurs.
you remember what
was once broken.
you remember one
which has not healed.
and then
at the time when you
want courage
there was none.
at the time
when you are already
prepared to tell the
truth,
when they are all
there ready to hear
you,
you walk away.
there is no use.
there is no use for
the truth.
you have learned to
live the lies.
the comfort is
much needed
now that they are open
now that
you are no longer
comfortable with
them.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem