Everybody thinks to get him proud
I need to shout out loud
can't I find a way
to make it heard
without saying a word..
yet too many kind of hurts
on round
hits more than a sword.
when lovelessness exists there
nothing worths to be heard or fight for
I hardly know.
Am I even worth to exist for?
For what, at all?
Now, hardly know.
Yet, love is every-where
Until the day it hits you back
From somewhere, anywhere
Do any words even worth
to be returned white,
from white to black.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Beyza. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.