I feel
Like the last piece
Of molded iron
Holding the limb
Of the broken chair in place
I feel
Like the rusted utensils
Lying unmoved
Across the dusty table tops
I feel
Like the jagged mirror
Cracked, sharp edged,
Shattered on the floor
I feel
Like the dusty old furniture
The rotting wood
Robbed of polish
I feel
Like the broken lamps
Left hanging on
The wires
No longer illuminating
No longer brightening
Anyone’s world
I feel
Like the broken floors
Creaking beneath
The slightest pressures
Broken from being
Tread upon
I feel
Like the haunted house
Alone, deserted
Separated,
On its own
Banished
From the world
To fade away alone
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem