It's been a month now.
He hasn't come home.
I've been waiting for some time.
Mom talks about how his plane got hijacked,
She is always crying.
I remember how he always had to go to the doctor at 12: 00.
I remember he used to stick his head in his bag and smoke would come out,
That poor misguided soul.
I told him
I told him
I told him not to go to Germany
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem