The wall that still needs painting
The garden that needs some work
The exercise and training which I now just seem to shirk
The cleaning, polishing, dusting
Painting the walls border
Things I should be doing are now left in sheer disorder
It’s as if when she left
It wasn’t just my heart
That was broken, torn, shattered and ripped apart
But my drive and motivation
Went with her out the door
Maybe if I stop moving I will feel the pain no more
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem