Talking within, speaking to self is starting again
to begin.
Staring inwardly, watching with awe and wonder,
seeing as a child.
Loving, caring, feeling foreign, watching tears
fall inside, none of them touching my soul.
Emotions tucked safely away, afraid to venture out
and be displayed in Kleenix, wet and damp with
sorrow, portrayed in tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem