The castle is built, slowly with the moments,
The foundation is deep, erected in the heart,
Year after year a floor, rising up to the air,
Rooms are a lot, furnished with souvenirs,
A store room in the corner, collected all my despair,
I dump there: whatever I don’t need now or later,
Gallery of the chairs neatly arranged in the parlors,
Visitors not allowed for the fear of dirtying the floor,
Giggling and laughing are heard to the envy of my neighbor,
A moment of the truth in the form of a letter,
A stone is thrown straight to the center,
The castle of glass is cracked and collapsed,
My heart starts to bleed; a mason in me is dead.
How hard I try, I can’t retrieve the glass bricks,
To resurrect my pretty castle that floated in the mind,
Whenever I pick the block, the broken pieces pierce my heart,
The memory of having a beautiful castle once is the moment of the past.
Nicely written. I wish to suggest you write a novel out of this. Thanks for sharing
Castles in the air are now turned into castles in the thoughts. Rebuilding may be easier than picking all the pieces. One more and you reach 1000. It is real.
Thomas A Robinson says, Only shows how fragile a person can be and how callous the world is. The last line is the most beautiful.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Packed with emotions.Very nice