Two wonderful, beautiful women walk by,
Both wearing wonderful, beautiful dresses.
Stop to discuss news,
And how wonderful, beautiful the weather is.
They carry on walking.
Woman One is awoken when she stumbles over her husband
Unconscious in the hall.
Vomit soaked through his clothes
In a puddle where he lies.
Stinking stench of sour milk and last night's beef,
All glazed and stewed in a poisoned water.
Woman Two wanders into her own life,
Filled with the tears of past years which haunt her.
Her bag hits the floor
As her hands rush to catch the drops which fall from her face.
She cries for nothing,
And for everything.
Same time, every day.
Not Wonderful.
Not Beautiful.
Just life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem