A Waltz For Zizi
A Story Of Myself And Why - Poem by A Waltz For Zizi
Why is the rain diluting her image, in my memories of her?
Why is the wind pushing me like a kite,
far from the warmth of her delicate arms?
Why is the sun blinding me, when I wish to adore her lovely shape?
Why is the world so big, when I need her hand to comfort my heart?
Why are the ocean's waves not crushing her ship, on my island's lonely shores,
but instead sailing her,
in the direction of another's lips?
Why are the clouds hiding the blue color of her eyes?
Why is the world determined to hide her from me?
Why can't she shape her heart by my love?
Why is it that I have so many questions without answers,
and why am I burdening myself with love
and the clouds with dreams?
Comments about A Story Of Myself And Why by A Waltz For Zizi
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye