I hide. In my bed made of sorrow In the dark…. alone. Struggling… Trying.. Not to think. Because,,, Thinking.. Doesn’t work. I lie here until I feel a single tear… slide ever so slowly down my cheek. I hear it softly hit the pillow. Feel the tear trickle down my arm.. I hear it's soft echo of death as it hits the floor below. A sad sound. Because that one tear.. was once filled with a thousand hopes and dreams. Hopes and dreams of the innocent. Hopes and dreams of what could have been. I fall asleep to the sound of that lonely soft tear. Echoing in my mind. I awake the next morning to find.. A small but painful stain.. Nothing now but an insignificant reminder Of a lonely dried up dream.
First Edition Translation of Teselas by Carmen Crespo X111 César Simón Poetry Prixe 2016 Translated from Spanish by Robin Ouzman Hislop and Amparo Arrospíde
excellently presented
William
Heartwrenching write!!
Love Tinka