Sometimes I hear within me
the voices of those no longer here
and sadness and regret and missing them
become my feeling
And in the aloneness of my helplessness
I call out and speak to and for them again
While in the self-dialogue I sense
How false and far I am
From what it would be
To truly speak with them again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Dont worry. I speak to myself too. Then i become self conscious when people stare at me so i resorting to..you guessed it...writing poems. So go ahead speak to them.