And this's the day
awaited long, that comes ahead of May.
winter has just folded her wings
and appeared the bright spring.
Oh the early morn looks
so clam so clear.
Drooping and distressed,
I held his hand, when we're heading
miles away to an invisible land;
that school is like home
full of fun but has
some fears,
where digits, letters and phonics are
teachers' tools
to awake the night owls.
He dosen't see me, and is scared
but i am all around
pampering his cries and tears.
In a learning bower he's sitting,
flipping pages over and over.
To God, in broken words, I pray
thou' my heart melts in dismay.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem