Vapid, dry and isolated,
That's how we leave them.
Cold, frozen even,
Do you understand why we leave them there?
Because If we don't they will grow and learn,
And eventually read The Times whilst eating After Eights.
Eyes That Would Shed Tears, Had they water to spare well put loved it that's what i call sweet melancholy
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Exactly what Thuraya said. Fabio is such a beaster... lovin him.