Of a time that stands in my memory clear,
When the nights seemed to hide from sight
and footballs banged against walls.
Of only only thirteen summers,
my skin like marble,
as of yet untarnished by tretorous rays,
flirtatious folly was how I spent my days.
Mothers would walk their daughters,
And their daughters would walk their dolls,
Amongst the bustling bushes of the park sat
couples immersed in love so deep that they
What they see isn't happening.
What they hear isn't being said.
Their eyes squint as they stare into the blinding light of love.
Like the seasons, the years came and went.
Some droughtfully dry and some the wettest wet.
Of all the seasons and years I've seen,
The coldest has been the start of the dark.
For you see,
Unlike those lustful couples,
love's light did not dwindle into fade,
But grew Magnificently, Brilliantly,
then cast me to it's shade.
Of the time I have sat alone in the dark,
it strikes me
that never again shall I see the summers
park, or the see loving couples not see me
(only two exist; her and he)
I think how the seasons will grow old but I will never know.
I will be here with the tormenting thoughts
Of a time that stands in my memory clear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem