I listen your voices,
you are never here,
i can't find you anywhere,
I see you in side room,
writing something
i feel you touching my hair,
I feel your foot step in the back door,
when i want to see you,
find nothing there.
this makes me strange,
and watch the door,
with constant stare.
a touching poem with sad images, penned so well
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It can be powerful imagination, a longing, playing out as reality or a knocking from within, which of these possibilities are more probable? Answer lies with you. A beautiful write!