he's watching me, silently,
hoping that I won't see.
his blue eyes glaring,
his mouth slowly curving.
he likes when I write.
I can tell.
he finally gets courage,
and comes to talk to me.
he walks over slowly,
and begins to get nervous.
we look into each others eyes for a minute,
before he speaks.
I look at him with sorrow in my eyes.
I see he puts his head down as I speak.
he looks at me without glee.
I turn my head and begin to feel sorry.
he finally leaves with tears in his eyes.
and I knew the moment I said no,
that he had a broken heart
Just starting to read your poems and you are very good and have lots to read on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh! To whom have you broken a heart Franklin? ? ? To your father...grandfather...friend? ? ? How could you hart somebody by writing poem? ? ? If I would be your grandmother I would be on you very proud!