Sometimes I just want to cry, I don’t know why exactly,
I just know I do.
When I feel so miserable and lonesome.
And I wonder about how many people who feels like me. And why.
Sometimes when I ride my bike to school in the morning I see the fine sunrise far away shining down on the fields. Then I also want to cry. But in a good way cry.
This pure perfection. Real and free.
And then I start wondering about all those people driving these roads not appreciating the beautiful view. Not able to see the beauty.
And I feel sorry for them, I really do
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem.... nothing is beautiful than the nature itself... read my poema too...!