Old Treasury - Poem by immanuel santos
I walked with a white hair grass,
wearing a classic fashioned glass,
and torment with humor aged hats.
He is bulky old brass,
painted and unpaved task,
but his memory is sharp more
than a fellow young craps.
How i wish my life will be like him
as he was. But thank God - being
his good troublesome, he made a
lovely incident letter that last.
Comments about Old Treasury by immanuel santos
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.