Like a scar
from a forgotten wound,
for some from the one they love,
others for the one they left.
The places you 've been,
the people you met.
Like a night when you remember
how the mornin' went.
The trouble and the pieces
made into a piece.
For some is their first kiss,
let it go never
like a friend forever.
For every weather leave a mark
like expose secrets once kept in the
dark.
A dirt from the stain of mind;
A stain of life.
Sometimes it's a portrait,
other times it's just a trait.
It's like the pages of a book
and in thousands of words,
there are some that ring the bell.
Just like a veil,
revealed or unrevealed;
you know it's there.
Or like the sayin'
'Beauty is lost, flowers dies
and friends become enemies'
but the beginnin' is never lost.
Something some treasure
while others lose with pleasure.
And...its just memories
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem