In times like these, a need to fill.
With breathless parchment and lively words carved with a quill.
Held in momentum the voiceless mind starts to shrill.
Unspoken words that can't be voiced.
Uncaring words focused cannot feel.
Cowardice the choice for to be written.
For not telling the one, her, for whom I am smitten.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i gove it a 10, a heart-filled poem, a hatred hidden, you are truly talented, it will take you far...