I sit in my bed and look to my walls.
They’re plain with a thick coat of blue.
No posters of “hot guys”, no pictures at all,
I stare out the window into gloom.
“How are you? ” I say to her. “And how have you been? ”
I sat and awaited her speech.
It’s weird but I finally realized it then:
You weren’t going to answer me.
I looked again to the window
And thought what she could be doing then.
For I talk to this picture below
And I look at it with regret.
“I haven’t begun to forget you,
I haven’t even come close.
I can’t tell you how much I miss you,
The others have all learned to cope.”
Then I look up to sun and realize
This picture can’t console at all
So I pick up the phone and dial
And say, “It’s about time for that call.”
The last thing I remember is your voice
And how you couldn’t recognize mine.
“How are you? ” I stuttered with rejoice,
For it had been such a long time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem