Slow burning funeral pyre
Whose flame burns with desire
Smoke clouds obscuring the sky high
Things I left as I was too shy
What remains for me in the end
Broken dreams not a friend
Resting, pleading hopes of romance
But at the time I didn't learn the dance.
© Paul Warren Poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
excellent starting- Slow burning funeral pyre Whose flame burns with desire