Here’s to life in its humour ways
With its bitter taste in wasted days
Here’s to comfort that weep the eyes
Mostly misled by unworthy lies
Let’s raise our glass and drink this in
As the blanket of hope is drowned in sin
If this is sin, then let me be
I rather wonder
- And wonder of me.
©Copyright Anna Andrews 2010
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem