Morning times are exquisite
Dawn breaks, the sky's lit
Spirits fly high, moods lift
When I sit to do my thinking bit
Then all hell breaks, my head splits
Noisy roads run through my wits
Nosy folks just won't shut it
Every sound gives me a fit
All this while with teeth in a grit
Inside my mind I run around
Words I found tumble down
With nerves knit I almost quit
Then I hear a clear pounding
A beat within that's resounding
A face, a smile, a laughter
That bring back my words
And every meaning I'm after.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem