Let me touch, and trace
The lines on your face
Beautiful, from where
Do you hail? Have we
Ever met before, baffled
I'll ponder the moment
May I hold your hand?
We could take a stroll
The autumn breeze
Will never grow old
Speak of your dreams
And I'll tell you a tale
Of fallen trees and
Stolen memories
Would you care, hold me
For I have been tricked
Once before, in a life
Too far away from this
Cracked, shallow heart
Fix me, is it possible?
Never, it's the opposite
I am not meant to
Be caressed so tenderly
For no one buys something
When it's already broken
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sometimes one fixes that which not broken, and I think this the beggining of chagrin. Hearts break more easily than green sticks.