Will be waiting to be read
By someone who cannot understand
My language
The songs I will never sing
Are waiting to be heard
By someone deaf to the mourning
Of something alive
Yet so far away
It may as well be gone forever
This time I tell myself
That I shall be strong
And hold on
But when everything is taken
Away from me
What can I hold on to
The past is slowly escaping
My eyes are slowly
I close the thought of it
And I close the diaries
Of someone who will never
Be understood by anyone
Apart from
Someone who will never want to read them.
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