In her eyes, I see stars like the mist of snow. Her vision so bright than the sun. Her laughter so soft to make noise. Her smile so white than her own red lips. Her day so beautifully spent with the sun in her pocket.
When darkness shelter the day, her happiness shrink as her mother kiss good night. Her vision glow in the dark like the eyes of an owl, as the light goes off. Her sweet laughter turned into a silent cry. Her lips lost interest of life like a spoiled fruit. Her face melts like glass onto her pillow. All she wants is someone to love.
The Little Girl.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem