The Guitarist Poem by Aya Nasr

The Guitarist

Rating: 5.0


There was a man
With charming green eyes
His face always shining
Like a spring sunrise
Having gentle hands
And skin made of ice
when he plays on strings
His spirit calling paradise
He's who I write about in poems
Yes, he's who I call them wise
He's when I write about..
My chest blows endless sighs.

Tuesday, September 16, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: love and pain
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Jazib Kamalvi 07 October 2018

Write comment. Beautiful poetry, Aya. Read my poem, Love and Iust. Thanks

0 0 Reply
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Aya Nasr

Aya Nasr

cairo, Egypt
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