Yes, I think after reading the posts
so steeped in mortal despair
and oozing with anguish
Like the women
slowly twisting
lilac stalks
who come and go
chatting aimlessly
of fashions
in this and that
They wander the halls
of gray anomie draped
In darkest aspect
hoping without hope
that their eye
will light
on what
they know not
They come and go
chatting and texting
of trivia
and still
they despair
Once in an age or two
they erupt with faux passion
hoping their beaux
do not dwell
on their fading charms
and withdraw
as they must
Languid and hopeless
they will linger
through eternity
frustrated
and unloved
Your point is well-taken, Mike. Some of the young female posters on here are lovesick but starving for more love, even if it's abusive. Sometimes I can't rate their 'poems', because my opinion might make them feel worse. Especially the urban teenagers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Like the women slowly twisting lilac stalks who come and go chatting aimlessly of fashions in this and that...great similie. I see women in Victorian dresses somehow. No, women will never change.