She was an image,
A fragile photo.
She was a glass frame,
Daring to be broken.
She was a beautiful rose,
With petals, a dark crimson.
Her tears were like blood from a wound.
Her eyes shouting out for help.
She whispers a sweet song to herself.
She was an innocent,
Waiting to be saved.
She was a light,
Wanting to be known.
She was only invisible.
Trust her,
No one would notice.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow...this is beautiful, fragile photo daring to be broken, i really understand what it's saying.