you walk down the street
while cars pass you by
you swing on a swing
trying to touch the sky
you roll down a hill
full of fresh green grass
you sit and watch
the spring flowers grow
you laugh and play
with your friends
you go to the beach
and play in the sand
you go back home
to stare out the kitchen window
woundering...
will this painted world
last forever
or at some point in time
will it end
just like you
cause of the fact
nothing really lives forever
by: cris son.
age: 15
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem