I am my memory
It is my history
It is who I am
A soulful man.
Sometimes sadness
Overrides gladness
From deep within
Its nostalgia not chagrin.
My first precious kiss
Its effects on me I miss
If a kiss can’t be like my first
My lonely heart would burst.
Friends advise me to let go
Winter living is cold as a foe
A memory cannot be touched
Malaise psychology clutched.
My fate has been cast
I cannot let go of my past
Humans are unlike other creatures
Love and nostalgia are our best teachers.
From the first kiss my love is awaken
And boy to manhood is happily taken
When I reminisce I blossom
To fall in love it is awesome.
Heaven is a memory
I cherish my history
Love is the perfect gift
Ways of Rumi to lift.
The first Kiss
Oh what bliss!
The ways of love
Are gifts from above.
September 22 2015
Copyright Leaking Pen 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A mother's kiss to a new born, what a gift to enter the world with a mother's kiss. Lovely poem.