It's bye bye to innocent dreams
making wishes on stars;
the magic in moonbeams.
Thought you had the world on a string,
the cost didn’t mean a thing
‘til a rock slide of reality broke you.
Without wings a grounded hope cries,
but wiser are the tears wept from empty pockets
beneath starless skies.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem