The Mistake Poem by Margie Cronin
The Mistake
Irresistibly changing.
I was silly in my mind. A mistake. At first being a child and then trying to be something else. I really should have kept the red blocks and the two plastic funnels that fitted so perfectly over my forearms and hands. Later, when I could no longer run in circles, I even gave up screaming.
The world, of course, is never bothered with silence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 8:01:30 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Interesting piece of poetry