Llorar Poem by David Blake
Llorar
No more tears I tell my eyes, yet the tears come
more and more frequently. Through the streets
the lingering scents, memories thousands of
things, now unseen they are always there to
remind me. Words unspoken, not having the
time or meaning they are lost in the careless
noise of the night. Through a door of clarity I see,
yet have no desire to be set free I carry on in my
misery.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/23/2024 1:19:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
