I see you go;
Into the traffic disappear like snow,
Where to?
Anywhere to,
From now until then;
I will twiddle my pen,
Wondering what's become of you;
My dear princess; how do you do?
As the hours trudge by;
And the seconds fly high,
Time sifts through the day;
Like fire through hay,
And then the night will fall;
Only to bring the next rooster's call,
Another day again;
Ask if it'll end when,
Another day's sunrise;
To look upon your sweet guise,
Grateful it is not a pretence;
Thank the Lord for your existence...
(09/12/2006)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem