You don't look yourself
something about you
mirrors an image of pain
like flooding drain
like smoke from a train
trembling voice
bloodshot eyes
fragile fluttering
wings of butterflies
majors and minors
clash on the battleground
disturbed by the sound
you call upon your strengths
and they come
to fight for you
because they
have the power
to see you through!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem