There is no she
There is no yellow or bronze or brown
The curtains are falling down
There is no She, anymore
One for whom the sun rises
She was a moon to his Sun
She was the reason he would run
Every day melts in sadness
Every day dies as does his soul
Every day he looks into the soulless eyes of Angelenos
Every day the cheerful sunlight lies right to their faces
There is no happiness here, they only sell that on TV
There is no She there is no He
Only 10 million loners, who long to be seen
There is no She
His glitter is gone his tinsel is torn
his hair is shorn his shoes are worn
And his step, once so brave and sure
wobbles side to side and has to endure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem