Just incase
Thy sees a dirty flake
On the back
Of a comedy ant,
Don't erase
Or crack nor shake
Memories of
Thy lovely past.
Hold thyself
God gives and take
Wet thy pillows
With tears that choke
But on thy grave,
Don't breakdown and poke…
We are like a candle wax
We shine and melt
But just in case
I don't make it back tonight,
Tighten thy lace
And begin thy race.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem