2000 years ago,
on the island of Crete,
was a Minotaur,
who plagued the streets,
meat, meat, meat,
was all he could eat,
no one could beat the big bad beast,
flying high,
wings made with wax,
they made a great escape,
with feathers on their backs,
not listening to his dad,
he flew too close to the sun,
falling to his death,
Icarus was done.
A good start with a nice poem, Aisha. You may like to read my poem, Love And. Thank you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A free flight of creativity on winged imagination. A captivating narrative beautifully embellished in poetic rhyme and rhythm. A lovely creation Aisha. Thanks for sharing and do remain enriched.