for mama
How do I tell you
that I lose your precious
golden memories
in San Isidro
I need to find
a way
to let you know
how the breezes of the night
detested my favors
how I got so tied up
in a daze
within imprints of paints
and sounds of howling
and growls
If I don't tell you now
I'd forever be dreamless
this anxiousness
forever endless
So here it goes
here's my lie
the golden memories
got carried away
by the moon
and its tides
*ming
it a nice poem...we always doinf to our mom..making white lies...just dont want to hurt them
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a splendid poem...though its a white lies..someway around she will understand you with this write.....10