immanuel santos (Philippines)
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 this poem (old treasury by immanuel santos )
Top 500 Poems
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Still I Rise
Edgar Allan Poe
William Ernest Henley
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings