Under the bridge,
moonlight cascades
itself
across her face
highlighting
the loneliness,
rarely seen
during the day.
Tears, run
colder
inside a
empty cup
used for
money
that she
never recieved.
But she wipes
them away,
before the
people arrive.
When the sun rises,
she smiles
once again,
finding hope
inside the
new day.
Even though she knows
too well
how fickle
it is
to hope..
The idea
of
Faith,
seems
like a cruel
joke,
when you sleep
under a
bridge
where no one
comes to greet
you,
except
the stars
of
misery.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Tears, run colder inside a empty cup used for money that she never recieved..' u write so beautifully. -killy