My life is a black and white photo is which I stand alone. You were that coloured flower surrounded by my blackened life in its decaying field. I was surprise to find you there, was I meant to? Either way I bonded with that flower and called it a friend, its colour seeming to be the only thing giving me hope but sadly I got to close to this flower and I crushed it and now no colour lays in my decaying field and I'm sorry that you were the flower...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Excellent poem Alex, thnx for sharing.