If you have read
my poems and feel
hackneyed, stale.
wipe out me
from your page,
wipe them out
from your dale.
A heart can't
see pain of another
heart, if not
set on each.
How can I preach
you to bear the pain,
how can I teach?
I'm also a river
flowing with stones
and moss always.
But I flow sea-ward
without caring
the unwanted pain.
Be a river
and stay in
running stage,
wipe me out
if once me
and my poem hurt
you, wipe us
from your page.
None can wipe your poem out nor is it required.... Good poems are up your sleeves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Not at all necessary to wipe you out as you and your beautiful poems are surely required in this site.! !