We are but one soul,
along the parallel lines.
Neither too close nor too far to make perspective work.
old and young,
writer of poetry and singer of song.
Meeting on the horizon,
crossing in the field of dreams.
Punk and rock and roll,
whisky and wine.
safety and fears
Talking eyes, do show-
love and hate,
loud and soft,
fast and slow.
to crash as thunder, to hold as still as dead of night,
with only moon and stars to show their tears,
when end in sight....
I ask for less
but to be this tired,
this scared,
this feared,
YES!
YES!
YES!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem