In My Dream; A Reality Poem by rogers monda

I take a pen, I pick a paper
Desire in my heart
want in my soul
the clouds seem to walk with you
the sun stopped for you

I cant move
I cant breathe
the birds still chirp; making that song
the brazillian song
the rain falls, small droplets of hope
everything seem perfect like the catholic pope

Is it the beautiful way you smile?
or the way you laugh dear?
is it the way you walk?
gliding like a polish skater

your touch soft like rose petals at the prime minister's garden
your embrace warm; am smitten
my heart is shaken
now am taken