About a man who lived a boy once
When time was in abundance
A search he had every day in turn
A ploy played in turn to never return
No answers he felt needed as hinder
To stop the moment in a linger
Until the day came when a fallen leaf
Shone light on the forgotten sheaf
Those adventures in solitude
The tones escaping a moan in interlude
Anticipation heavy on lids, he sat down
Naked, vulnerable, ready to mourn
Opening many a door in him to see
Yellow and brown, arrive to relieve
The years washed in uncertain ways
But still white not grey this may
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem