Every time I feel like telling you something
I just sit down and write.
Thinking you could maybe hear me,
Hoping you just might.
But you not listening to me
Is neither strange nor new.
And for my part there are so many things
I never said to you.
Even at our most intimate moments
My soul was never bare.
A flimsy veil protected it
And I chose to leave it there.
Your soul came out in blinding flashes
That quickly disappeared.
There was much we had to hide,
So much that we both feared.
Now the things I left unsaid
Are what I most regret.
And every sweet memory we shared
I need to forget
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A delightful write Ghada, a pleasure to read, a lovely construction, and a lovely flow. Love Ernestine XXX