Traces of tears remain etched in my mind's heart on
days of sorrow, marked in calendar's of grief.
Stained and soiled, always marring thoughts with
regrets and loss, as I pick my way through images
and their emotional feelings.
Figuring ways to live alongside these tumultuous
visions, seeing their reality staring into my
consciousness as I weep words of prose onto paper
with pen in hand.
Telling everyone who will read these tell-tale
signs of a grieving poet, living on a planet of
existence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem