They were young, she was fiddling with her phone,
He reached out close, to help her,
Brushed her young bosom, unwantingly,
I am a man can see,
She smiled, looked coyly, he looked not knowing what to say,
As all he wanted to was to be close and show pure loves slow whisper of may.
In a fast food joint,
I saw two young doves fighting,
He was gesticulating,
She was calm as women are, and torturing,
Not speaking a word, but burning him with her eyes,
Those which killed him on first sight,
He was finally spent, she dug into her purse and asked him to fetch,
He got a coke and a few fries,
For minutes there was a tomb of silence,
Then she dipped a fry in ketchup and gently pryed his lips,
He bit as if he didn't know, I could see his heart beat slow.
When I was young, I never had a fight,
But there was no phone, there were no fries,
There was not enough money with me to take her and try,
But even if She had a phone, the daddy in me would have kicked in a moron,
Never would he have allowed me to go and finger,
The phone close to her bosom which I love so dear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The story of a generation gap well said.