Southwest Detroit,
Old streets, ancient history,
Grey factory town
Weeping lonely rain,
A small girl
Moves from the city
And her cat is left behind.
The birth of melancholy eyes
And a poetic soul
Begin in delicate tenderness.
Oh Uriah, you have captured the two of them - so beautifully and a sweet melancholy that sings like music. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The gray landscape, the exquisite little girl with melancholy eyes. This word portrait belongs in a gallery of unforgetable poetry.You have excelled yourself. Warmest regards, Sandra