The Suffering
The Suffering
She visits me every night,
her clear blue eyes so full of love, cries.
A pool of hopelessness at her feet,
a love I cannot reciprocate.
When I wake up my pillow is damp too,
I must have wept for her restless soul.
Wrapped in a sheet of plastic
she cannot decompose,
be soil and reborn.
Her eyes so clear and blue look at me
with enduring motherly adoration.
I beg of you go now, let me free
for I have not the force
to return your love.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Added by Poetry Lover
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