I woke up one morning
With a pen in my hand
A beautiful sunshine
And a cloudless sky
I woke up unhinged
My door was not there
I was an open plan heart
My tears and my sorrow
Displayed for all to see
My pain was fully awake in my mind
I woke up unveiled
Naked emotions on display
My sorrow was painted on the wall
My laughter was dry as a bone
I could not hide my tears
The bloom in my heart was no more
My garden of roses has withered
I was a pile of sadness
Ready to be buried
My pen refused to write the poem
It was too dry to report my storm
It was not ready to spill my sorrow
It was a painful conversation
Between the poet and his lover
A plain sheet of paper
Was all they had
To bury their pain
And forget their past
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem