I think I met my match
In one of those places
Finally I could catch
A flavour for faces
When my eyes chase younger
I think strawberry and pineapple
When my eyes chase my reminders
I think oranges and apple
When my eyes roll at older
I think watermelons
They seem to go un folder
The sales Item and the seller for the selling
As every face turns
They seem to turn with time’s tide
As if every face returns
A part they rented and the rent denied
Glad to see one of them smile
While the others wait their due
I remember that flavour in that file
I remember someone had my flavour too.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem