we are walking up
towards the peak of
an old mountain, where
Papa before his demise
walked with me
to the top and told me
how beautiful life can
be when we are near
the clouds that dress
the trees on the mountain
tops with its
foggy days,
we have gotten heavy
on the plains and
our feet are not forgiving
us for our lousy days
when we reached the top
my world changed
as i remember what
hurts and having learned
the cause
i breathe life again
like a child.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem