It is almost 5 o'clock,
And my heart seems to get stuck,
Already out of luck,
I whisper,
Not wanting to go back,
To what turned all my Summers,
Into Winter.
The memories of the past,
The joy that does not last,
Seem to filter,
All at once into my heart,
And slowly there get stuck,
As the clock strikes 5 o'clock,
And I whimper.
.........love the touch of mystery in this write.... ~ Not wanting to go back, To what turned all my Summers, Into Winter. ~
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Alright, time for a reprogramming session! 5 o'clock, the heat is diminishing! ; -) grab the pole, time for fishing! : -) Now with a few, you're finishing! ; -) Sangria time, not Spanish, Finnish! Sing! ! ! : -) No Winter this year! : -) All Summer, chilled wine and beer! : -) Now when I type the magic 73442-Submit Reprogramming done, new flame is lit! : -) SUBMIT!