The always nurturing organism with a lovely rash.
Overwhelming optimism got his tire slashed;
Then came the rain, a torrential pour. Storm a-moving fast.
Influential, never-more. Candy-coated past.
The little boy had died inside. He left a suicide note:
'I ran away and cried for days. 'Cause no one would dote.'
The humane being sat, then sighed, 'Was it me that caused his death? '
The sun came out, brightly shined; new light on both their breadths.
(September 2010)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem