The shattered glass our failed charade,
he parades his hearts blockade,
he taunts me,
he tears at my heart,
during life's masquerade.
The shattered glass my heart's window pane,
acting out our sad parade.
Am I that transparent?
You can see what I am at a glance,
but my soul is buried deep,
try and probe this endless sleep,
and you'll find me lying there,
no where to go,
no one to know,
no one to see,
no one to be,
no one that cares,
that cares for me.
Our weak facade,
our lifeless ball masquerade,
no one to see,
no one to be,
as we preform our failed charade,
acting out our sad parade.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
In an original way, beautifully …