I write, listening to Patsy singing, 'she got you'
Though for me, that ant true, caused my
Man lying face-down on the bed talking on the phone.
Memory of she got you don't have me, cause i
retain four smiling faces enclosed in frames,
Happy framed children singing:
Mamma we're glad you chose all of us!
'Children, love-seeds planted, can only yield sweethearts'
…go freely, leaving door open for others like you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem