The whiteness,
It seems so pure.
Such a sight that arouses ideas of creation.
It waits for your move,
Yearning to hold your wishes
And accept your feelings.
It shows to be empathetic,
Understanding your many woes,
Releaving such feelings with revealing color.
But what you see angers you,
You can not allow for others to see what has bled there,
So you force it to disappear
And it becomes a lost memory in your mind,
Blanked from your past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem