Before my skin grow pore,
I think that the seashore;
Is the best place i had been,
Walked far from home as teen.
We played volleyball round free
The sun, the cold breeze, the sea;
In our newly cleaned white jean,
Knee pops, Hip pose, hands lean.
We built sand-babies with big ears
Laying back in our half-nude wears
We were many as ten but virgins;
We'd drink down our whole gins.
There's a kite we'd surfed,
Just be sure you don't get roughed
There's a pack of rope we'd tied;
Just be sure you ain't pulled from the side.
If beauty could ever remain
I wish those funs again to begin
Who knows the world the nine have gone
Or did i killed them with my watergun?
Lazy old ages, Before you die
I think that the seaside;
Is the best place to be,
If you wish to live happy as we.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nice poem. Yah child hood is one of the best times if you are lucky. Mine wasnt that glorious having been abandoned by my mom. Good poem. Lets read some more