Flowing sadness, touching my soul with many tears,
causing feelings of such emptiness inside.
No where to disperse any of it, holding it as long
as I can - until I can't hold it any longer.
Letting it surge and fly into thoughts, traveling
higher - no longer staying quiet.
Speaking silently, softly, into words, appearing
quickly onto paper.
Poetry forming - being translated through time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem