At times I am afraid of the ease
With, which you say out certain things,
Things that are bound to hurt someone,
Things that are meant to be not always said,
It comes naturally to you!
It's not just the things that you say
Worries me, it's rather the tone,
With, which you say that out loud.
There's a strange sense of finality in that!
As if you have been already through this,
And you just are waiting, for a reason,
A reason to begin the end, of all this
That we have built and cherished.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem