Boundaries blurred where
Sanity protruded into insane spheres
Measuring tape,
reluctant to scale
the thoughts,
slipped round the waist,
recorded accurately, the numbers.
Numbers slipped from the tongue
And lost its count
Where words turned to flesh and blood.
Flesh was weighed but not the pain.
The pain was ignored
It was part of the game.
The score board recorded
A perfect ten but not the efforts
Efforts withdrew behind the curtain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem