Loneliness caresses a melancholy soul.
Kneading at the creases of what was good intentions,
Molding those good intentions into silent screams
For attention
Never ending
Infidelity slices the heart
Like a knife through butter.
Always another
One never seems to be enough.
The road less taken-
Never knew the streets of life would be so rough
Afraid of what will be next
Uncertain of what is left
Is this the outcome
Or merely a test?
Alone again
In a crowded room-
Trapped.
Time heals nothing
It only rips the scab off of the open wounds
Of the heart
Stabs at the remnants of subconcious memories
Steals the very essence of a once vibrant soul
DO YOU EVEN REMEMBER ME?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem