Innocent face with unknown thoughts in my mind
hold on the pen of little hands knows
how to make the lines
After the years when dear ones fight
who's sitting on the same hight
still, I won't waste my time
To make the hate lines
When hard times crush me into sized
On my hands, with the help of my bloody knife
I make my own lines
Hard time past away
I finally found for what I fight
That I put my sweat to blood
Just to mapping my home lines
When dreams turn to monotone itself
Moreover, no strength left to fight
I find myself on the beach with a stick
Drawing my free lines
In the hospital
Laying on the bed taking my last breath
and after my death, on the machine
my heart still making my death lines
After the years when dear ones fight who's sitting on same hight....very deep lines.. Very vivid write to appreciate. It striked me very hard..good work penned..keep up..
an excellent poem.. I loved reading it.. Great write.. Keep it up! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thank you so much..for your words of appreciation