Inner Wastelands Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Inner Wastelands
Crossing wastelands, tombstones and graveyards appearing
before me.
Watching silently, as I pass by, ghosts of yesterday reach
out, wanting to share their sorrowful hearts.
Having no more room or space inside, shaking my head from
side to side, walking past, knowing that I too have died.
Leaving in my wake, white cross markers leading me beyond
this saddened life that I have always lived.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/18/2024 8:46:30 AM # 1.0.0.1119
