The notorious scribbler who wants to change the sky
And replace a new Sun and Moon,
Stuck in a place where he provides fuel to the mischievous vehicles
That run on the slippery road.
The schedule was in the night where he struggles from ten to six.
He counts the stars as usual and waits till a kind star
That comes down voluntarily.
I dedicate this poem to all my poet friends in gratitude.
As long as there are stars to wish on, hope is still alive. Praise for your gifted pen. Always your friend at poemhunter, Warm regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nimal this is a wonderful poem with a light heart and an eccentric theme. I love the way you mix the world of heavenly bodies with the hum drum of a gas station. A charming piece. love, Allie xxxx