Thoughtless sky allows no one
Not even consciousness or dear ones
Nothing appeals
Everything looks unreal
Sun may have permanent place
Moon may have enough room to race
Stars need no space at all
They smile and give twinkling call
They seem useless
With me in all the cases
I fail to think of my place
I may soon settle in any case
I had some ideas about world
But that were bluntly put on hold
I was afraid of putting in day light
But I thought not it right
Writer or poets are having their own class
They have an ability to hold nerves and pass
Let us dream about real things and present
I have no reason to feel bad and resent
True, live in the joy of being fine poem sir 1 hour ago by David Wetzel (leafsailors ghost) to Looks unreal
Thoughtless sky allows no one Not even consciousness or dear ones
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
True, live in the joy of being fine poem sir 13 Oct by David Wetzel (leafsailors ghost) to Looks unreal