But I could tell she is reading
Between the lines, when I took
A look in her eyes, I got the meaning
Yet she, her self, means more than the book!
More than anything
I wish I was the spectacles
She wore, so she could see through me the feeling
She weighs on my muscles.
Truly it showed she is tired
To her life time dreams
As she yawns for the sleep she desired,
Like she knew; those who dream big sleep fewer hours!
And when she moved her hands, I could smell victory
That when she holds her pen she writes history!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem