Congested
Like NYC traffic
Like to many peaches in a little girls basket
Pressure
Like temperature changes
Causing whirlwinds tossing tins
Admiration
Like a tribe of heathens
Breathin' for the sun, seeing bright eyes from their creator
Opening their hearts in song
From a distance
Attraction
Driving me like pistons
Conveying feelings into poetry, though nobody
listens
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I like how you can rhyme words I would never think could rhyme You are magnificent!