Poetry, Music, Dance and Rants
These are the scrapbooks of my life
For no sight, no image, recalls, in my mind
The thought, the feelings, the spirit of the time,
Like a soft small expression in a single line.
I Pray to remember my whole life.
Just who I am and why that it’s I;
Through the sounds of day
And acts of night.
So my soul is always bleeding
Out of my pen, in what I write.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A nice write! Thanks for sharing. Pl. go through my 'Poetry- my first love' in the PH.