It happens in every girl's life,
sometimes in youth,
sometimes in adulthood;
girls always seek attention,
as they grow they need love;
they are shy but they seek importance,
they accept love from any of their boyfriends;
they want to experience a new feeling
they want to calm their desire
they want to feel an ecstasy,
so they accept love to feel it's thrill
but it is a love that never really lasts.
With age and maturity it changes,
as they grow older they find new lovers
but the old love is never forgotten,
even after years it never diminishes
though they find new lovers and a new beginnings.
As women turn into mothers,
mothers never stop recollecting their old lovers
they recall their promises, their kisses;
they call their old lovers betrayers
they think that love was an infatuation,
an infatuation that haunts them their lifetime.
And though man holds his own wife in his arms
every night and embraces her with delight,
passion always surmounts to keep up
the relationship and unity
yet they always pine for what they have lost:
a love so intricate of those youthful days
which was destined to be theirs yet it had passed.
They blame each other for it,
they even blame fate for that unity falling apart
though they knew it was a mutual mistake
though they knew it was a love that was so appropriate
which they had shared so intimately in their past
and now while in the arms of their spouse they sleep
they silently have to conceal and suffer those heartaches
which they can never isolate nor forget.
The truth hurts. Thats true for many folks. Life is about choices.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Bogus lad I will f..u...c...k u...see what I am doing