Leave Me!
With or without
Firing
Your last Glance
On my chest.
I always
Keep
Both hands
And My chest
Open
Maybe that
glance may
Fall
On my hands
After missing
Or bouncing back from my chest.
My
Hands are still holding
Your last lasting glance
As if my they are holding
Your hand.
This Is my beautiful poem
And the only one
I am always proud to keep in my hand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem