the sound of softly falling rain
echoes of your footfalls
the mystery of you, ebyama hold their own appeal
you are the writing on my wall
the ants stock up for their future, as I save myself for you
the tables have already turned,
all the cards spread turned up
fuel’s to fire, as you are to me
you open your eyes and everything in me comes to life
but I am not jumping through hoops just to please you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem