After Birth - Poem by George Zhoya
Nobody is single...nobody is in love...
' Mom' or 'dad' are strange words which last...
But that's not the colour of tears l used to love...
Because life was re-born & breathing doesn't last... Just look at the clouds you can paint a real vision,
Like the sound of a light which cause a true confusion,
As he felt when he left the womb as a son,
To another new city which brang life and sun.
let's thank Grace once with a prayer,
Cause she appeared twice in real life of a player...
I remember walls of storm painted the colour of pane,
And wishes were meant to come to reality with a pain,
but he never went to battle,
l guess he also never won her heart with a hustle.
living alone in a curve was hopeless,
but selling talents was the only happiness.
maybe he is now living in a desert,
Eating a meal full of dessert,
Writing a poetry,
And calling himself a poet...
Comments about After Birth by George Zhoya
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