Gloomy
Well,
The ones who don’t pay notice
Say she is
Most days
As muddled as they may be
I recognize
Behind those hazel eyes
Are a carnival
That spins
not only, her excitement
But all of ours
Early one morning
That mentality of hers, thought
It was still
Too dark
to witness
her self-judgment
at rest,
within it’s slumber
I saw a ghost
Something, I assumed to be dead
Long ago
But, yes—there it goes again
Her smile
It wasn’t like
Anything you’ve ever seen
It wasn’t just a smile
I saw the load, fall of her shoulders
Crash onto the floors
As if,
A bag of bricks had suddenly decided,
It was time to rest
For she,
herself
Had decided
It was her turn
As the sun rose
The sensation didn’t want to set off
Not wanting
To panic
The only thing, she thought
actually knew her
It stayed
Thus,
She was jammed
Bare as nature’s trees
Knees buckling,
Terrified
Her conscience told her
That security,
Would be hers,
But never
Upon hearing
Those raw words
She roared in laughter
Tears,
Dancing down her face
Only angering the conscience, more
Fond of every second
In the least,
The last moments,
I saw of her
Be her finest
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem