</>Summertime.
uptight,
a recluse,
missing out,
outcasted,
outlasted
in the greys.
My life
falls flat,
a crazy eight
lacking
sensory details,
no tears, fears
nothing
how uncanny
the timing is,
the ghosts, the lepers
of the past
catch up with you
spinning dust
If you don't let
them go
the thorns will eat you
alive.
Wilted roses,
lie in the dirt.
I'm at rest
watching it all...
picking the petals.
the stillness waiting
for something
to land
on my
sheltered island.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem