these patches of saying “hello sunshine”
memories and scars covered with another
from the little baby that you were with your little blankie
up 'til the great days of elderliness with pride and honor hanging from your shoulders
through good and bad it's with you
even through the worst
through snip and tear
the wounds won't heal themselves
but another stitch or patch is like a story itself
each bandage on an old wound
one jacket plus another must be a history book itself
with great coverage that you need
creating the backup that you need
just like the perfect warranty
hoping-ly that could forever last
through war and terror
through light and darkness
the heavy stains upon this memento
always washed
but could forever be worn like your little blankie
Translation:
like waking up and saying good morning
think of a worn out jacket
usually babies carry around a blankie
usually HS students wear their
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem