Simple,
it is that I write
to you, I see so bright
cliché, it may
to say
how you turned night
into blessed day
But I can't help
it if I can't stop
smiling to releases
in the creases
of your dimples
Simple,
it would disclose
if you could compose
three little words
amid the herds
to me
and set free
the fluttering birds
under my tee
But I can't help
it if I can't stop
leaning towards
your boards
until the last breath.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem